Give it a Week
by Butterfly Prospekt
Summary: Angela Shepard wants Ponyboy Curtis, and she's used to getting what she wants. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ I wrote this fic because of reasons. _

_Reasons being, I am the world's biggest sucker for Shepard fics, and the appearance of Angela in 'That was Then, This is Now' got me thinking. So. Here goes._

_Warning – Angie can have a foul mind at times, and her whole family has an even fouler mouth._

_Believe me, I wish I were S. E. Hinton. But. I'm not. That's why this is fanfiction._

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Day 1 : Start**

That kid.

Ponyboy Curtis. He sure has a funny name, but his face makes up for it. And his hair.

Angela Shepard watches him as he leaves. Tries to be discreet about it, not that it works. She's halfway hiding behind the stairs, wishing he'd stay a bit longer.

"Yeah, see you, Curly."

With that, the door is shut behind Ponyboy, and Curly is giving her the stupidest grin. "What's up with you, Angel? Lovesick?"

"Fuck you." Angela scowls.

Her brother looks at her with this expression that is so damn confusing – he's not smiling, but he's not angry, either. That's just standard Curly face: void of emotion. Because he's practiced to get it that way, and though he'll never be as good as Tim at it, he's better than most anyone else 'round that side of Tulsa.

After a few moments' pause, he says, "Watch it," in a level tone. Like he's never cursed at Tim before.

"You watch it," she tells him, and leaves.

She goes up those stairs she's been hiding behind, finding her room and shutting herself in it. Good thing the lock actually works on her door. You'd think the place would be nice, with two stories and all, but it's a shithouse like all the others in the neighborhood. Run down, falling apart.

Her mind keeps finding its way back to the Curtis kid. Thinking about those big, gray-greeny eyes. Normally a broad like her doesn't go for a kid like him, but she's willing to bend the rules. Doesn't matter if he's not your usual sexy. He's sexy enough, and she's gonna have him.

Angela is used to getting what she wants. Curly and Tim like to complain about her, but they're full of bull. They indulge her whims far too much to hate her. If they hated her, they would have left her that time her last boyfriend slapped her around.

"Huh," she says to herself, and then whispers his name. Ponyboy. Pony. Now it's not so odd as nice.

_Give it a week. You'll be mine by then._

**xxxxxx**

Tim is eyeing her in the most irritating way.

Head cocked, eyes narrowed, brow all pushed together ... He's evaluating her, and she hates it. She almost wants to tell him to spit it out, but you really don't say those kinds of things to Tim. After a while, he speaks, slowly. That's his way. "Curly tells me you're after the Curtis kid."

"To hell with Curly," she tells him, getting all cold inside.

"You know–" Tim leans with one elbow on the counter, as if readying himself to give her a long, serious lecture. Angel's instincts tell her to run, but her mind tells her to stay, because no one runs away from her big brother without making him angry. "–since Dallas died, we haven't been on the best terms with their group."

Dallas, Dallas, Dallas. It was months after he died when Tim finally went back to his normal self. Of course, no one knew he was mourning the other hood except her and Curly. No one else could pick up on the subtle changes in his personality. She could. This is the first time he'd straight out mentioned Dallas since that time about a year and a half ago, and she has no idea how to respond.

She sighs. "Yeah, I know." She bites her lip, then decides to continue. "But do I care?"

"Don't be a wise-ass, Angel." But Tim is still patient-looking as always. Well, as patient-looking as Tim can look.

"Sure, Tim."

He pushes his hair off his forehead and then says, all confidential-like, "Let me tell you something, kid. I'm pretty sure that Curtis don't like broads like you." He's thinking of that Soc girl, she knows.

But she makes her eyes go wide, and she says, "Why, he ain't never met a broad like me." She makes herself sound innocent, which is about as a far from herself as you can get.

"I'll bet he hasn't," Tim mutters, and leaves.

"Son of a..." she whispers at his back, and then stops herself from finishing.

Tomorrow, she begins with Plan A.

**xxxxxx**

"Is Curtis coming over?"

Angela knows she's being obvious. But Curly has picked up on her thing for Ponyboy already, and so she doesn't bother to hide it. That's just more work, and she's never been an overachiever. She gets what she wants, no more, no less.

"Mmh," Curly says from the couch. He's sprawled out on it obscenely, with one leg on the back and the other dripping off, a Playboy practically flat on his face.

Odd. It was the answer she was hoping for, but she didn't really expect to get it. Curtis and Curly were never that close. Tim had seen to that; he practically beat their heads in every time they were together – mostly because her own brother always thought of some stupid way to get them killed. She wonders what's up.

"What are you two plotting, huh?"

Curly sits up and the magazine falls off his face. He peers at her suspiciously. "Who said we're plotting anything?"

"You," she says, shrugs.

He's not impressed by that. "I never–"

"Yeah, you just did. What's that stupid look for, then?"

"Go to hell, Angel."

She shakes her head and gets up. She goes back to her room and waits. If Curtis is coming over, it will be soon. He never comes later than noon. They never go upstairs, not unless they're doing something they don't want Tim to know. She'll strategically come down, and...

She really has no idea what she's going to do, but it's worth a shot.

Angela wants Ponyboy Curtis and she gets what she wants.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**__ Hi, all. Nice to see you. Yes, it's taken me forever to update. Sorry about that. But, here's a new chapter. A chapter's a chapter. Please review, it'll make me happy. xD_

_Again, beware of the mouths of the Shepards._

_Susie Hinton is almost too amazing to be considered human. She wrote the Outsiders. I, on the other hand, am completely average and boring. Big difference there_.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Angela huddles in her room, her ear pressed against the flimsy wooden door. _Come on_, she thinks, desperate. _Get your ass over here already, Curtis_.

Not that she'd dare say that to his face. Yet.

Almost as if on cue, she hears the front door being thrown open and a set of feet tramping in. It's raining outside, and she imagines water sloshing off his shoes. Track shoes. He's a known track star, and...

_Geez, Angie, you're starting to sound like a slutty cheerleader or something._

So she shuts up her thoughts and concentrates on the sounds.

"Hey, Curly. You ready?"

_The hell? _

"No, no. We can't leave yet. Tim'll get suspicious. We gotta act normal."

Angela wants to whoop in triumph, except she can't be discovered. Instead, she silently glories in the fact that she was right. It's exhilarating.

Now her curiosity is piqued; what is Curly planning? If he's afraid of Tim finding out, it has to be something big. She can use this as blackmail, if need be. Tim will always listen to her word over Curly's. Sure, she does things he doesn't approve of often enough, but Curly is about as trustworthy as a pig. Probably less.

"Act normal?" Ponyboy's voice sounds incredulous. "When the Brumlys are probably going to kill us?"

_Curly, you are dead meat_.

The Brumlys. None other than the most violent group of hoods in the city. Tim is a hood, most definitely, and Curly. But at least Tim's fair and reasonable. Tim wouldn't cut you up just to watch you bleed.

She sees Curly wince in her mind's eye. "Yeah," he says, "it sounds worse when you say it like that."

"Can you remind me why I agreed to this?"

"Because Darry–"

"That was rhetorical, Curls."

"Sorry."

There's a silence, and it turns out to be the right moment. Angel slips out of her room and waltzes down the stairs. She's made sure her hair, which has always been almost too long, is looking presentable. Nice, even. "Curly, what did you do with my homework?" she asks. She figures the Curtis kid will like her more if she pretends to do her homework.

Curly stares at her, incredulous. "Shit, Angel, since when do you do your homework? Or go to school, even?"

She fights not to glare at him. He knows full well she goes at least once a week. They all do. They've got to keep the truant officers off their back. But instead of replying to him, she smiles as brightly as a Shepard can at Curtis. "Hi there, Pony."

Ponyboy is confused. Maybe even intimidated. She's only ever said one word to him before, and that was to fuck off when she was ten. "Hello," he says, quiet.

Next order of operation: insert herself into the thick of whatever they're doing.

"So, what's with the Brumlys, Curls?"

Curly chokes. "You heard that?" he demands, eyes wide. _Damn_, she imagines him thinking, _how the hell did she find out?_ "Angel, you know you aren't supposed to ... to eavesdrop."

"And you know you aren't supposed to do any sort of rumble without Tim."

"I'm not five," he mutters.

"Neither am I."

Ponyboy is looking white at the prospect of Tim finding out. "You aren't going to tell Tim, are you?"

_This is perfect_.

"Tell you what; my mouth is shut if you bring me along."

"No. Absolutely not," Curly says automatically.

"I'll just watch."

Her brother rolls her eyes. "Last time you said that, you ran into the middle of it and punched some guy, then ran away screaming because it hurt your hand, all–"

"He was killing you, if you don't remember."

"–all because you punched him with your thumb inside of your hand. I thought we'd taught you better than that."

"Shut up, Curly. I'm coming, unless you want Tim to show up mid-rumble."

"Fine. If you get hurt, though, it's your own fault. Don't you dare blame me. You do, I'll kill you."

He wouldn't, so she smiles. Triumphant. She's won, and he knows it.

**xxxxxx**

Angela has to ride in the backseat.

She would have been fine with squeezing into the bench-like front seat with the other two, but her brother wasn't. She figures she's already pushed her luck enough, so she doesn't complain. Out loud, at least. In her head, she's cursing up a storm. The backseat makes her feel so young. Juvenile.

Curly still hasn't explained what sort of thing they've got with the Brumlys. Maybe she's better off not knowing, but she's still curious. She's always curious. She wonders if it's skin on skin, or blades. Maybe she'll throw herself in the the mix again, if it's skin. This time, she'll know how to punch. Tim and Curly made sure of that after last time, though they'd chewed her out first.

Angel steals glances at Pony all throughout the ride. His hair is almost auburn, greased back, pretty. His eyes are gray-green. Such a tantalizing color. She wonders if he's a good kisser. Then she tells herself she is doing an awful lot of wondering lately, and she shuts her mind voice up.

Curly pulls off the truck in an empty lot on the Brumlys' territory. "Stay in the car," he says as he gets out.

"Fat chance."

He's about to argue with her when Ponyboy says, "Let her go. If she gets herself killed, it's her fault, ain't it?"

She loves him more then.

"You hear him, Angel? You die, it's on you."

Her brother grins to show he's joking.

Angela gets out of the truck.

There are five of the Brumly group waiting, all looking taller and stronger than Curly. Certainly many times the size of Ponyboy. One sneers at her brother, says, "It's just the two of you? Good luck."

Curly looks panicked. "Ray was supposed to come-and Matt-"

Members of their gang-Tim's gang.

Who weren't there.

"Yeah, and they're not here, are they? Guess it's just us." The Brumly guy looks surly and pleased with himself.

"Those aren't fair odds-"

"Ain't no one ever told you life ain't fair?"

Angela steps forward, looking between Curly and the opposer. "You can't do that," she tells him. "Tim'll kill you."

Another Brumly laughs. "So you brought your girl to a rumble, Shepard? You're stupider than we thought. Unless you plan to let a woman fight."

"She ain't my girl," Curly says through his teeth. "She's my sister. And she ain't about to fight."

He's right. She is starting too doubt whether she will punch one of those boys. They sure look huge. Scary.

Ponyboy clears his throat and speaks up. "Hey, look, can we call this off?"

"Sure, if you want to wake up dead tomorrow. This was your idea. We don't like it when people waste our time." The Brumly's grin is sinister. Angela shivers.

"All right, we'll fight you," Curly decides, and she wants to scream at him. "Skin on skin."

"Deal," the Brumlys' leader says.

Angela can't see his hands. They're behind his back.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__ Heyyy. Here's an update, just for you. xD Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love y'all. More reviews are appreciated; I like to know how I'm doing. Specifics are a bonus._

_Remember, the Shepards are fond of their swearing, and Ms. Hinton owns the world ... I mean, cough, the Outsiders._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Curly, you shouldn't do this."

Angela pulls her brother aside, but he shakes her off. She has a bad idea about where this is going to go, but he isn't about to listen to her. He never does, not when it matters the most. That infuriates her, but he's bigger and stronger and older, plus he did her a favor by bringing her here at all.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want, Angie. We'll be fine; don't you worry."

Curly and Ponyboy still look staggeringly small compared to the five Brumlys, and hopelessly outnumbered.

_It's skin on skin,_ she whispers in her head._ Curly can handle himself_. Because – because when hasn't he?

"Good luck," her brother says to the leader.

Who laughs.

Angela retreats to the truck to watch, not getting in but not going any closer to the fight.

Curly throws the first punch.

Then it's a blur of motion. She can hardly make out what's happening. Three of them gang up on Curly, including the leader. The other one goes for Ponyboy. Angela can barely breathe, or else she's holding her breath.

At first it looks like any other skin rumble. Her brother is getting the upper hand, and Ponyboy is holding his own but struggling a bit. She hears both of them cry out occasionally, and every time, she wonders what in hell would get them to organize a fight like that. She's pissed they haven't told her.

But then something's wrong. Then one of the Brumlys on Curly stops, and a few seconds later, there's a blade in the mix. Angela wants to call out in warning, but her voice is caught in her throat.

Her swears loudly, not enunciating because of the pain.

Angel rushes over to him, forgetting about the fight. "Curly–God, Curly–

"_Get the fuck off of my brother._"

She screams it, loud as she can, and she's crying. _This was supposed to be skin_. "Curly? You okay, Curls?" _Skin, damnit. Skin!_ "You better–Tim is gonna kill you, I swear to God–"

The leader of the Brumlys is staring at her. But he's off her brother. She would have attacked him, had she not been too busy making sure that Curly isn't hurt.

The fight has stopped. It lasted all of five minutes. But she doesn't think about that part. Curly is bleeding, not heavily, but enough. "Geez, Angel. I'm fine."

She hugs him, and when she looks up again, the Brumlys are gone.

There's all this blood, and it scares her. It darkens his gray shirt, a huge black-red stain. "How hard did he get you?" she asks. "How bad?" Then, without hesitation, she lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the cut. She grimaces. Of course, she's seen a lot worse, but that wasn't on Curly. That was on Tim, or Tim's enemy, or a member of Tim's gang. Never on Curly–Tim makes sure Curly doesn't get hurt.

"It's nothing. You're such a girl. This is why I don't like bringing you, Ange." Curly makes a kind of smile, but it's more like a twist of his mouth. He's not very convincing.

Angela sighs. "You don't like bringing me, Curls, because you know Tim'll kill you if he finds out."

He doesn't say anything, and so she knows she won.

For a moment, she turns and looks around to be sure all the Brumlys are still gone. They are, but Ponyboy is standing awkwardly to the side of her and her brother, his hands shoved in his pockets. When he feels her gaze, he glances away and flicks his hair in his eyes.

"You okay?" she asks, out of courtesy. Or at least, that's what he should think. But she really does care, whether or not he's allowed to know that.

"Yeah." Bruises are already forming on his face and on his arms, but those are nothing compared to what Curly's got. She can't believe the Brumly dared to break the rule of a rumble. With hoods, with greasers, the rules of rumbles are law. You break one, and it just gives your enemy a good excuse to kill you. No one in their right mind would do it, but, then again, she's never thought the Brumlys were quite right.

Focusing on her brother again, Angela says, "Look, Curls, we gotta get you to a hospital. Maybe it ain't that bad, or deep, but you're bleeding a hell of a lot and it could get infected or something." She shrugs. "At least, that's what people say."

"Who?"

"I don't know, people."

"It's true," Ponyboy pipes up from behind them. "Soda got a cut once, didn't tell Darry. Within two days the thing was disgusting. The hospital bill was twice as much. Darry was fuming."

"I can imagine," Curly mutters.

Angela hasn't seen much of the oldest Curtis boy. Sodapop she sees all the time–he works at the DX. Even though it's on the other side of town, she (and all the other girls) have made that extra-long trip to see him. He's a real looker. Darry, on the other hand, she only has a vague mental picture of. Apparently he's Tim on steroids when it comes to rules, or so Curly has said. But apparently he doesn't go around promising to kill his brothers every other second, either.

"See?" Angela says smugly. "I was right. We gotta get you to the hospital."

Curly groans. "If we go to the hospital, Tim finds out."

So that's why he's so against the idea! "There's nothing Tim doesn't find out on his own, Curly, and you know it's better if he finds out earlier. Wait a week, and he'll kill you twice."

"You should go," Ponyboy says.

"All right, all right, I'm going. Just you both had better have some damn good excuses to tell Tim before he makes this cut a ... fleeting memory of happy times."

As she and Pony are helping him up and walking him to the truck, Pony grins. "Golly, Curls, since when have you got such a fancy vocabulary?"

"You must've rubbed off on me." Curly snorts, maybe with pain, as he's helped into the backseat. Angela's elated that she gets the front. "You got a licence, Pone?"

"Nope, but I know how to drive." Ponyboy starts the truck. "And don't you start on me about laws. You're the last person I want to hear that from. I get it enough from Darry."

He pulls the truck out of the lot, and Angela can see his inexperience with driving. He's passable, sure, and won't get them killed, but he jerks the wheel a bit too much, and she's sure that if she were driving, Curly wouldn't be making these little 'oof' noises so often.

They reach the Tulsa hospital, and Ponyboy parks lopsidedly. Angela gets out and opens the back door for her brother, holding onto his arm to steady him as he slides out of the truck. She supports him as he limps into the hospital. She's starting to think he was lying about it not being bad, because he's wincing ever other step.

The receptionist peers at them curiously. She's a middle-aged woman with glasses and a few extra pounds. "Name?"

Curly jabs Ponyboy in the back. "Make something up."

"Nah, man, there's laws," Pony whispers back. He turns to the woman. "Curly Shepard. He got cut."

She frowns. "And you didn't call the police?"

"Um, no, ma'am. Didn't think of that."

"Hmf. A doctor will be out soon. Have a seat," the receptionist says, shaking her head.

Angela pulls Curly over to the nearest chair.

"And try not to bleed all over the furniture, there's a dear. We just got them reupholstered a week ago after another kid like you ruined them."

Curly swears softly at her when she looks down to write something.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey! A new chapter, just a little bit faster than the last one? Maybe? And a bit longer. I'm really getting into the story, lol. Anyhoo, the PonyxAngel action starts here. Remember, it's only day 1, though.

Thanks to everybody who reviewed. Love you guys. Review this one too? Plzthx. xD

Shepards like to curse, and S.E. Hinton owns the Outsiders.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

A nurse appears from behind the double doors and calls Curly's name, smirking. Angela rises to go with him, but the nurse shakes her head. "Wait here. We'll check him over. Once he's just resting, you can come and see him."

She sits dejectedly and helps her brother up. He whispers at her, "Now would be a great time to figure out what you're going to say to Tim."

So he really is going to leave it to them.

What an ass.

He follows the nurse back to the inner part of the hospital.

Angela turns to Ponyboy. "Well."

"Yeah," he says, shifting uncomfortably.

She sighs. "So, how'd you get into this mess? What's with you and the Brumlys?"

"Curly says he insulted them on their territory, practically challenged them. They dared him to a rumble. He was trying to get people to fight who wouldn't tell Tim, because he was afraid Tim would be mad and make him call it off." Ponyboy shrugs.

"I didn't know you were in Curly's circle."

"I'm not." He's chewing on his lip. "I heard about it, and I was pissed at Darry because he was treating me like a little kid. I figured I'd show him I could handle myself. Didn't work out. Darry'll have a fit when he finds out."

"But he won't!" Suddenly Angela is confident. She has to save her own skin, plus her brother's, and now Ponyboy's. "We'll think of an excuse, don't worry."

She motions for him to huddle with her, to be all secretive-like, but really it's just an excuse to be close to him. Their legs almost touch; it excites her. Through the hype of the rumble, she almost forgot the reason she was there in the first place. Now she remembers, and it's coursing through her. Ponyboy. He's so damn close...

"We could say Curly got jumped," he offers.

"Tim wouldn't believe that for a second. One, nobody would dare jump Curly. They know Tim would kill them. Two, that wouldn't happen in Brumly territory. They're violent, but they respect Tim, only fight in organized rumbles. At least, that's how they do it with us."

"Huh," he mumbles, shrugging. "Okay. We could've been walking there, and Curly said something that set them off, and then they took a blade to him."

"Yes! And busted up you."

Ponyboy nods, hopeful. "And the only reason you're okay is because they didn't wanna hurt a girl."

Angela doesn't know if the Brumlys are chivalrous enough to not hurt a girl, but it'll have to do. It's the only plausible explanation they've got. "All right, so, what did he say?"

"I don't know. He called them chicken poop."

She stares at him for a long moment, doubting his sanity, until she realizes it was a joke. Her eyes go wide.

She tries to laugh, but it's too late. "Or we could say something slightly more believable, and get our brothers off our backs."

He's glaring daggers at her, but he says, "That would work too."

For a minute, she doesn't know what to say. She's not thinking of the rumble, or excuses, for that matter. She's thinking of that day almost five years ago.

"Hey," she tells him suddenly. "I'm sorry about–you know, when we were maybe ten–that was real bitchy of me–" Then she regrets it, because she just reminded him of something he possibly could have forgotten about already.

Ponyboy laughs. Unexpectedly.

"Aren't all girls real bitchy to boys when they're ten?"

**xxxxxx**

Twenty minutes have passed since the nurse called Curly back, and Angela is pleased with how close she's gotten to Ponyboy. The awkwardness is gone–almost. She's gotten him to smile, and, well, she's only one day into the week she allotted herself to capture his heart.

"'Scuse me, you two, but Mr. Shepard is ready for visitors," the nurse says, poking her head out. She's got graying hair and is all skin-and-bones.

Angela stands and decides it's okay to grab Pony's hand and pull him up. Then she drops it just as quick, not wanting to push her luck. She already has.

The nurse leads them down a few hallways and then stops at a door, pushing it open for them. "I'll leave you to it, then." She's contemplating something. "Don't go causing any trouble, now."

Angela gives her an incredulous look, but Ponyboy nods and says something along the lines of, "Yes, ma'am."

_Glory, he's polite!_

Curly is sitting up on the hospital bed, doing his best not to look hurt. He's got a bag of fluid attached to his arm, and he's thrown the gown to the floor and is laying around in his pants. The first thing he says is, "That thing looks damn stupid."

Angel has to agree, but instead, she just laughs.

Ponyboy, on the other hand, gets down to the point. "All right. We've got your excuse."

"Yeah?"

"You were on the Brumlys' territory," Angela says, wanting to make sure he knows she helped.

"Going to visit–if what Angela told me is correct–Jamie."

Jamie Douglas is an acquaintance of Curly's, but their relationship could be stretched to the point of friend. If you really had to. And they kind of have to now. He lives in the gray where the Socials' territory meets greaser. The most direct route to his house is through the Brumlys' area. Angela was proud of coming up with such a lie.

Curly is grinning already, pleased with the starts of the plan.

"The Brumlys saw you and confronted you," Ponyboy goes on, "because, you know, you're Tim's kid brother." He didn't need the information, but whatever–she supposes length makes their story more succinct. People always believe you better if you add pointless details. It gives authenticity.

"They've always got something going with Tim," Curly mutters. "Makes sense they'd wanna take it out on me."

Because Angela and her brother both know if there's one thing Tim cares about, it's his siblings–even though he'd rather get beat to a pulp than admit it.

She picks up the story. "They said something about Tim." Then she breaks off.

After a pause, Curly asks, "What the hell did I say?"

Ponyboy looks down. "We haven't figured out that part. Guess it's more real coming from you. We'll let you fill that in."

"And they jumped on you!' Angela finishes with a flourish. "Pulled a blade on you, the leader did, and two others ganged up on you. The rest got Pony."

"And you're not bleeding or bruised because...?"

"I'm a girl."

Now that she says it to Curly and sees his reluctance to accept the theory, it sounds all the weaker. Really, Brumlys aren't the type to differentiate between the genders of who they're beating on. They like blood, and they like pain, and they like seeing someone helpless at their hands. That's all there is to it. Male, female ... that's all blurred in their eyes.

"Tim's supposed to buy that?"

She sighs, frustrated. "You got anything better?"

"Nah." Curly sinks into the bed, deflates. He pulls at a peeling edge of the big gauzy bandage on his torso. "Man, this itches."

"Leave it," Ponyboy says. "Otherwise it'll get infected, and then you'd have to come back."

"Damn it, Pone, you gotta ruin everything, don't you?" Curly spits, but his heart isn't in it. None of theirs are. They're all just trying to figure out how to avoid their brothers' wraith, and when your brothers can predict your every move, it's all but impossible.

Tim will find out sooner or later, though, so they've got to hurry. "So, Curls, what did you say?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, it's one sentence. We got the rest."

"Tim ain't gonna buy it."

That just flares her temper. "Look, Curly, if you think you can make up something better, then go ahead and try. Just don't bring us into it." She takes a step closer to Ponyboy, for effect.

"Maybe I should. You're out of your mind."

She's about to scream at him, injured or not, when the door opens abruptly.

It's the nurse. "Mr. Shepard? Your brother is on his way here–Tim, is it? He says he should be here in five minutes."

She shuts the door.

"Shit," Angela and her brother say at the same time.

"Shoot," Ponyboy mutters, a little belated.

**xxxxxx**

As soon as Tim gets in the door, he barges right over to Curly. "You gonna tell me what happened to you?"

Curly grimaces. He's acting. Angela told him before their brother got here that if he acted like he hurt bad, Tim wouldn't grill him as hard. At least, that's what she hopes.

"I got cut." Curly glares at Tim. "What the hell do you think?"

"I can fucking see that, kid." Tim looks like he's barely keeping himself from exploding. Not a good sign. Angela backs up a step from him, just in case, making sure she's discreet about it. "Who did it? Why?"

Gulping, Curly says, "The Brumlys."

Angela sucks in her breath. Ponyboy averts his eyes. Curly is cowering under Tim's piercing stare, but he can attribute that to the pain if it's needed.

Tim doesn't yell. Doesn't explode. Instead, he speaks real soft, and it's scarier. "Curly Shepard, you tell me what in God's name you were doing on the Brumlys' territory, and why the hell they'd jump you. I know for a fact they wouldn't lay a finger on you for fun. They know I'd kill them. So you better have a damn good reason, kid, or I'll–"

"Yeah, I hear you, Tim," Curly says hurriedly. "Just let me explain, okay? I was ... I was going to Jamie's."

Their brother's expression softens just a little, but he's still got to be a cynic about it. Classic Tim. "Jamie, huh? Didn't know you were close to him."

Angela is swearing up a storm in her mind, praying Curly will say the right words.

"I'm not."

_Curly, please don't fuck this up for us._

"But, you know, he, uh, he's got that new switch that everyone's talking about? The one he swiped from that Soc store on Carey? I wanted to see it. And him. Hadn't talked to him in a while, figured I'd catch up with him."

_Yes. There you go. Keep it up, Curls._

"Pony was over, we were bored, and we decided to go."

Tim's eyes slide to Ponyboy, then to Angela. "And what is she doing going to Jamie's? What is your sister doing looking at a blade?"

_Shit_.

"She didn't give a damn about the blade, Tim," Curly says, like it's the most obvious fact ever. "She's a tag-along, you should know that, of all people. And she's got a huge thing for Jamie."

Angela wants to kill him, and yet she also wants to hug him. Jamie is cute, sure, but not her type. She doesn't like rumors going around about her, most definitely not untrue ones. But Curly just saved their skin, and so she's able to keep her anger inside.

"And then?" Tim folds his arms.

"The Brumlys see me, go cursing at me and saying, 'Hey, Shepard, get your ass over here.' And I don't know what they want, so I go, and then they start mumbling some shit about you, badmouthing you, and then I said..." Curly's voice trails off.

_Please, God, if you exist, help my brother._

"What did you say?"

_The younger one, that is._

"Well, do you want the, um, general, or-"

"_What the hell did you say?_"

"I said, 'What, you too afraid to say that to his face? You're just to scared of my brother. Bet if I was him you'd be running to your mothers right now, you fucking sons of bitches.'"

_Curly, you are brilliant. That was perfect. You need to be an actor, make us some big money._

Tim looks down, then back at Curly. "And then they jumped you." It's not a question. His expression is a little bit warmer, and he almost smiles. "And pulled a blade on you." He glances at Ponyboy. "And by the looks of it, beat up that kid."

They all nod eagerly, hoping this works.

"Because of me."

Their eyes go wide, and they stare.

What did Tim do?

"I knew I shouldn't have cheated them, but they were asking for it, the bastards..."

"Tim–"

"This is all my fault."

"No, Tim–"

"It's time I settle this with them, and finally." He grins at Curly. "Too bad you won't be able to fight, Curls."

"Tim, damn it, listen to me–"

"We'll whip them good, kid, don't worry."

Curly swears and violently punches the arm of the hospital bed. The motion rips out the tube of fluids. "Oh–_shit_, that hurts."

Ponyboy sticks his head out the doorway and calls for a nurse. A fat one comes waddling in, chirping about how kids like them are never careful.

Angela realizes they've got to make conversation, a distraction, and so she says hurriedly, "Why did you come, Tim? I thought they call the parents first."

"Dad doesn't give a shit."

Of course he doesn't. Their father wastes himself away on drinks and highs.

"Mom ain't about to, either. She calls me, and she says–I swear, this is really what she says–'Tim, can you go to the hospital, your brother got cut up, and I'm real busy–'"

The nurse breaks in, "I'm not going to put the IV back in. You're fine as it is. Just take it easy, don't strain yourself, and change the bandages tomorrow. You can go."

Curly jumps out of the bed quick as lightning, then doubles over. "Should. Not. Have. Done. That," he wheezes.

Tim grins. "Don't kill yourself."

After contemplating for a couple seconds, Angela takes Pony's hand. She's supposed to have a crush on Jamie, she knows, but her brother knows enough girls who sleep around. He probably wouldn't be surprised if she decided to be one. Enough people have already accused her of that. She's not. She goes through boyfriends like crazy, but they're real boyfriends, until she finds out who they are. She doesn't sell her body and she doesn't take love lightly. She just hasn't found love worth keeping.

They walk out the door, a limping Curly in the lead.

"Curtis," Tim asks at Ponyboy, "you interested in a rumble?"


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**__ Hello! Posted a tiny bit quicker this time, no? -proudface -Anyway, it's no long, elaborate thing, but Angel's mind is back on Pony, and the plot is picking up, so that should satisfy you for the time being._

_Warnings and disclaimers are the same as usual. As always, I'd reallyreallyreally appreciate reviews, especially if you're going to favorite/follow the story. I like to know why you like it, what I'm doing right! And criticism, of the constructive variety or otherwise (aka, flaming) are welcome._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"I can't believe you."

Curly won't look at her. His eyes are averted, pushing away from her face like the wrong ends of magnets. It's almost like he wants to just get up in leave, but they both know he can't.

She curls herself up into a ball on the couch, hiding. She hates it when her brother is like this, so disappointed. Angry. It hurts.

"You were the one who told us to lie," Angela says in her defense, feeling suddenly brave.

Ponyboy has pressed himself into the corner of the room, knowing he's needed but also knowing he's out of place. She wishes she knew how to draw him in, make him feel more comfortable.

"Don't you fucking blame me, kid. You came up with the story that landed us here."

Here, as in their house, while Tim is about to wage all-out war on the Brumlys. Because of something they said, something that wasn't even true.

What has she done?

This all stemmed from her plan.

_Look what happens when your 'plan' goes wrong, Angel._

Since she can't talk to Curly, she turns to Ponyboy, hoping there will be understanding in his eyes. And maybe there is, just a little. She can't tell, with the shadows and all.

"We started this," she near whispers, "and that means we can fix it. And that we have to."

Ponyboy nods. "We will."

Standing up unsteadily, hands finding the bandage around his middle, her brother says, "Leave me out of it. This is your mess, Angel. You get to clean it up."

With that, he's gone.

Curly can be a pain sometimes, but she's never realized until now how much of a comfort he is. He's a presence that's always there, annoying or not. He's the person she can always rely on to be consistent; he'll always have a smart-ass remark or a complaint or an order for her. Or, once in a while, praise. But he's always there, no matter what he's got with him.

Now he's not.

Angela sinks further into the sofa, wishing it could swallow her. It seems all of her cockiness and confidence from the morning has slowly washed away. She glances at Ponyboy. "Why don't you come over here, huh?" A pause. "Now that my idiot of a brother is gone."

She felt the need to say that.

"Don't get mouthy, Angela Shepard!" she hears Curly yell from upstairs, sounding truly mad. "You don't want me pissed at you right now!"

"See?" She mouths the word at Ponyboy.

He nods slightly after making sure Curly isn't there to see him do it.

Reassured because he agrees with her, Angela gets back to business. "So. How are we going to fix this?"

"I don't know. Not unless you want to go up to Tim and tell him we lied."

Angela shudders at the thought of how her brother would react. He'd start by belting them a good one on the jaw to knock them over, then screaming at them 'til kingdom came. No, she doesn't fancy that.

"No way in hell."

There's a slight grin on Ponyboy's face. "That's what I thought."

Silence falls over them, and she stares out the window, looking at the sky. It's a deep violet, almost navy color that reminds her of over-ripe blueberries.

After a while, Pony moves a little. "We could go to the Brumlys. Bribe them, or something."

"They'd kill us once they laid eyes on us. You crazy?"

"I just figured, if we didn't bring Curly–"

She can see his logic. Almost. "Maybe. But that seems a little dangerous. If they killed us, it wouldn't fix anything. Tim would just kill them more than he's already planning to."

"At least it would be for a reason."

She stares at him.

For a reason.

A reason.

Damn.

Curly always said he was a little bit off, maybe too philosophical. Curly was right, ten times over.

Doesn't mean he's any less appealing, though. She's certain that he's the opposite of the guys she's normally with, who are rough and sometimes use her as a personal punching bag. She imagines he's careful, gentle, kind. Considerate.

But this isn't the time for imagining.

"I don't wanna die, thanks."

"We're all gonna."

"I was hoping to make it past fifteen."

"Well ... Yeah, I suppose."

She gives him the oddest look and then smiles, even though she doesn't know why. "I think we can scratch that idea, right?"

"No, not necessarily."

Angela raises an eyebrow, telling him to continue.

"See, we go to them, without your brother. We tell them what Tim is planning on doing, and then they'll be grateful that we warned them. Then we make them promise to not go out of their way to fight anybody, 'cause we just wanna keep the peace, and threaten that if they break it Tim will kill them. Simple as that."

Huh.

"So, you just expect us to go up to them and say, 'Hey, Tim is planning on beating the tar out of y'all, just thought we'd let you know. You're welcome. But, you know, you can't fight him because we don't want no fighting here. And if you do fight, Tim will fight and kill you.'"

Ponyboy looks insulted. "Not like _that!_"

"How, then?"

"Just wait and see."

He's so set on the idea she doesn't know how to dissuade him. "Well..."

"Tomorrow."

It almost sounds like a date, as daunting as the prospect may be, so she smiles and nods brightly. "All right!"

He looks at her funny and stands. "I gotta go, before Darry's on my ass. D'you think Tim'll have told him already?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But probably Tim spent most of the day at Buck's trying to recruit some nasty fighters. He knows your brother don't like rumbles."

As Ponyboy pushes the door of her house open, he says, "It ain't that he don't like 'em. He just don't like what comes out of them."

Angela has got a picture of Pony under a barely noticeable shaft of moonlight sitting on her couch, in her mind as she goes up the stairs. She gets herself ready for bed and then lays down, looking out at the sky again. It's now almost black. She sees Ponyboy and his almost-grins, the way his mind is different but kinder, quieter.

Tomorrow...

**Day 1 : Finish**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:**__ So. I fail. It's been a month. And, today, realizing it was exactly a month, I had to update before it become more than a month. I feel really guilty. Sorry. Feel free to flame, get mad, whatever-just review, even though I don't necessarily deserve it this time 'round. Thanks to those of you who reviewed for the last chapters. I appreciate it very much. (:_

_Anyway. Here goes. Disclaimers and warnings and such haven't changed since last time. _

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Day 2 : Start**

Light creeps through the tattered curtains into her room. Angela wakes with a strange sense of dread and anticipation, and for a moment she can't remember why. Then it hits her, full in the face. Ponyboy. The Brumlys. Her most likely imminent death.

_You're being paranoid_, she tells herself. But since when has she ever listened?

"Curly Shepard!"

Angela cringes at the anger in Tim's voice, even though it's not directed at her. She's in the mess with Curly. If he's in trouble, there's a chance she is, too. He wouldn't rat her out, but Tim has got his sources. A tremor of fear runs through her. What if Tim has found out?

"Do you _want_ to go to the hospital again? If you keep moving like that, you're gonna split that cut open. Go lay down, or somethin'."

"But, _Tim_-"

"Go, Curls, before _I_ put you in the hospital."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Angela hears Curly mutter as he traipses back to his bed. She smiles smugly to herself. For once, Tim is more on Curly's case than hers. Deciding it's safe, she gets out of bed. Her hair is a tangled mess, but she's too lazy to take the time to brush it, so she runs her fingers through it in hopes that it'll help somewhat.

Tim is standing in the stairwell, arms folded. "Hey, Angel," he says offhandedly.

"Hey." She passes him, going down the stairs to grab some sort of breakfast. All she comes up with is an apple, but that's probably all her stomach could take. She knows Ponyboy isn't one to back down from his plans, and he's planned to do something that will either get them killed by the Brumlys, or worse-killed by Tim.

Just when she's worrying about how the hell she's supposed to survive, a realization falls on top of her.

She doesn't know what they're doing.

Is Pony going to come here? Is she supposed to go to him? Are they supposed to meet on Brumly territory? God, this is terrible planning! She'll have to call ... and she doesn't even have his number. Curly might, but it'll be a stroke of luck if he does. And he might not give it to her anyway because he's so angry.

"This is great," she mutters to herself. There's only one option, and that's to brave asking Curly, so she does. He's an invalid at the moment; he can't do too much. He'll put himself in the hospital trying to, or elsewise Tim will put him in the hospital for nearly getting himself put in the hospital. It's twisted logic, but it's in her favor, so she ignores the confusing parts.

Curly is laying on his bed, staring disgruntledly at the ceiling. He's mumbling curse words under his breath, no doubt targeted at Tim. When he sees Angela, he glares at her.

"I'm not going to help you, if that's what you've come here for."

That stings, the venom in his voice. And the assumption that she'd come back begging on her knees! No Shepard would do that, especially not Angela. Her anger has begun to boil, and so she snaps, "I'm not _asking_ for help."

"Then what the hell do you want?"

She sighs, wondering if she'll get anything out of him. "Ponyboy's phone number."

Her words evoke a tiny grin from her brother, but then it's gone as soon as it came. "What, you got a crush on him?" he asks, laughing darkly. "Just perfect."

"_No_-" she begins to protest vehemently, but he cuts her off.

"Don't lie to me, Angela. I can tell. You're way too obvious. I was only asking to be polite."

"You, _polite_?"

Curly gives her his best death stare. "I'm not hurt as bad as Tim seems to think. If you get any mouthier, I'll come strangle you, cut or not."

Tim's footsteps can be heard on the hallway, stopping outside the door to Curly's room.

"Like hell you will!"

Angela smirks at Curly.

When Tim's gone, Curly decides to speak again. "All right, maybe I won't. But I won't give you his number, neither."

"Damn it, Curly, I need it-"

"Yes, you _need_ to go on a date. Have you ever thought of what you're going to do with yourself if he rejects you?"

"I've fucking told you Curly, this isn't about some damn crush!"

"Okay, okay. Geez. Calm down. Get me a piece of paper. And a pen."

"You get it," she snarls.

"If you make me get out of this bed, you're not getting the number period. Tim'll kill me if I lift so much as a finger."

She makes a big show out of finding him something to write with and on. Then she throws it on his bed, for added effect. It's a dangerous move, because he could deny her the number, but he just rolls his eyes and scribbles a few digits down onto what looks like a page of a math textbook that's been ripped out.

"All right. Thanks, Curls."

Curly doesn't say anything, and so she leaves. There's a phone down in the kitchen, and, luckily, it's not occupied. She picks it up and dials Ponyboy's number. _Please, let him answer._

"Hello?"

_Yes!_ "Ponyboy? Hey, this is Angela."

"Angela! Hey. So-"

"Where did you plan on meeting?"

There's silence for a couple moments as he deliberates. "You know the DX that's closest to where I live?"

"Yeah, the one your brother works at?"

"Yeah. That one. Meet me outside of there as soon as possible. We'll take it from there. Savvy?"

"Savvy. See you."

"Bye." Ponyboy hangs up on his end.

"Tim!" she calls, knowing she's got to tell her older brother. If she randomly disappears, he won't do anything, but he'll be suspicious when she gets back. Best to make sure she's covered all her bases. "I'm going out with a friend, okay?" She hates lying to him-somehow, he always knows. Eventually. But it sounds like now he's too absorbed in something to really think about her words.

"Sure. Bye, Angel."

Then she's out the door. She lives on the opposite side of town, so she hitchhikes with this kid she kind of knows from school. The girl isn't bothered; apparently, she's going to the same area. They don't say much, and the girl drops Angela off right outside the DX. Ponyboy is already there, leaning against a bench.

"Hi," he says when he sees her.

"Hey. So, what's-" She shuts up abruptly when a blond head pops up. A gorgeous one.

"Who's this, Pony?"

_Oh. Right. His brother. Soda._

Soda has to be a town legend among the girls. He's beautiful, that's all there is to it. Beautiful guys attract girls, plain and simple. Most girls. Angela had her sights on him once, but then decided she didn't want him enough to fight twenty other girls tooth and nail. And she never wanted him like she wants Ponyboy.

"Who's this?" Ponyboy asks incredulously. "You seen her before, haven't you?"

Soda squints at her for a moment and then nods. "Oh! Sorry, Angel. Haven't seen your face in a while."

"'S okay." She's just surprised he talked to her and called her Angel. They didn't exchange many words the last time they ran into each other.

"Where're you two going?"

Ponyboy sighs. "Soda-"

"Hey. You're my kid brother, I got the right to know."

"Fine. Just to the Dingo, okay? Gonna eat some lunch and hang for a while. That against the law, federal or otherwise?"

Soda grins. "Not against any that you can get put in the cooler for. But I might wanna check Darry's mile-long book of laws before I give you a straight answer on that."

Ponyboy glares at his brother and motions for Angela to come with him as he starts to walk. "Let's go."

Brumly territory isn't far from the Curtis' place, just ten, maybe fifteen blocks or so, but there's a huge distinction between the areas. Ponyboy's house isn't in the best neighborhood. Brumly neighborhoods are downright dark ones. Tim doesn't even necessarily like Curly to associate with them, but there's not much that can stop a hood talking to another hood, so Tim doesn't enforce it. Ponyboy's not a hood, though ... maybe that's the difference. Greasers listen to their older brothers. Hoods don't.

"How we gonna do this?"

Ponyboy shrugs. "Just wait and see. It's kind of an impromptu thing, you know?"

Angela doesn't even know what impromptu means, but she doesn't think she'd agree with his statement regardless. She doesn't want to sound stupid, either, so she just nods and changes the subject. "I thought you get along with Soda."

Looking at her funny, he says, "I do. Why?"

"You lied to him."

"Ah." He looks down as he walks, kicks at the dirt. "Just because we get on fine doesn't mean I don't lie to him. You lie to Curly."

"Yeah, but we don't 'get on fine.'"

"Well ... it's like this. We get on fine, so he doesn't want me to get hurt. And he and Darry are of the opinion that Brumlys mean getting hurt."

_Add Tim to that mix._ "I thought getting on fine meant he'd do whatever you want with you."

"No," Ponyboy says with a grin. "That's an idiot friend."

_So ... that's Curly._

Angela doesn't know what else to say, and so they walk without saying anything for a while. Before she knows it, the houses have morphed from remotely to presentable to ramshackle. The roads are oil-stained to the point of ruin. Brumly territory. She's starting to regret her decision to come and to trust Ponyboy.

A hand grabs Ponyboy on the shoulder and whirls him around. She turns with him.

It's a Brumly kid she ain't seen before, tall and imposing. Brawny. Holy shit, those muscles!

"What do you two kids think you're doing here?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:**__ Happy Christmas._

_Happy Hannukkah._

_Happy New Year._

_Happy End of the World._

_Happy School Starting._

_I missed just about everything under the sun, didn't I? I'm sorry. Really. Forgive me? :3 Well, at least it's not a month. I will try to update faster. Please review, and thank you to those who did last time. I appreciate it very much._

_I think you know the disclaimer and warning drill by now..._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Angela has an urge to tell her heart to shut the hell up. Why is it so loud? She watches, wide-eyed, as Pony wrenches his shoulder out of the Brumly kid's grasp. It's a show of bravery she didn't expect from him, and it almost makes her want to smile. Almost.

"We're looking for whichever one of you pulled a blade on Curly Shepard," Pony says.

_I hope he knows what he's doing._

The Brumly kid licks his lips. "You ain't gonna find him."

"And why the hell not?"

"He don't wanna talk to you."

"'He don't wanna,'" Ponyboy mimics in a voice that's really too dangerous for comfort. "That's too bad for him, isn't it? 'Cause we've got to talk to him. Sooner rather than later would be nice."

"You look at me, kid." The Brumly grabs Ponyboy's chin, a sharp movement that makes all of Angela's alarms go off. "If he don't wanna see you, you ain't gonna see him. That clear?" Without waiting for an answer, the Brumly goes on. "And don't you mouth off to me. It would sure be nice to punch your face in sooner rather than later. So you'd better sit tight if you like that pretty-boy face as it is."

Ponyboy opens his mouth and then closes it again. Angela breathes a sigh of relief that he did. He's supposed to be smart. Right?

He'll get them out of this. Hopefully.

The Brumly's grin is a bit too annoying, though.

"We've come on behalf of Tim Shepard," Ponyboy blurts.

Angela would like to sock him herself. She yanks on his arm, pulls him aside. Then she leans into him, whispering, "Don't you fucking pull my brother into this. He hears every single word anyone says about him. He'll know!"

He blanches. "How else do you want me to get out of this?"

"I don't know. Fight! Isn't that what you boys do?"

"You want me to fight _him_?"

As in Mr. Crazy Frightening Muscles over there.

"On second thought..."

"I'll figure something out, okay? Let me handle it."

Grumbling, Angela complies.

"Like hell you're going to see him if you're coming for Shepard," the Brumly announces finally when he sees they're done arguing. "He's got enough shit going on with Shepard as is."

Ponyboy starts to say something, but Angela pushes him aside, taking the spotlight for her own. "Look, we lied. We just really gotta get through to him. It's important stuff. We don't want trouble." She bites her lip. "Fact of it is, we're trying to make it so that you don't have any whatsoever."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means Tim Shepard is my brother, and if you don't let me see that damn man who cut Curly this instant, I'm going to tell Tim you tried to lay a hand on me!"

Pony stares at her incredulously. For a moment, she thinks the Brumly looks scared. But then he shakes his head.

"Yeah, you're Shepard's sister, and I'm the president."

"I got proof. Tim taught me how to punch. You want a demonstration?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"Get me the hell to that person who cut Curly, or so help me I will bring Tim here this instant!"

"Look, kid-"

"Tim's taller'n you, stronger'n you, and madder'n you. He'll beat you to a pulp in a second. If you so much as touch me or my friend, it'll be half a second."

"Fuck." The Brumly is glaring daggers at her. "All right. Fine. But if either of you make any more trouble for us, you'll be dead before you can scream proper."

**xxxxxx**

"If it ain't Curly Shepard's sister."

It's the Brumly who cut her brother. The leader of the pack Curly and Pony fought. Angela looks at him with hatred. He's resting too easy on that stupid, falling-apart couch.

"And his friend," the Brumly adds in a condescending way. "Mike tells me you let the lady do all the talking."

Ponyboy's ears are redder than anything in the real world should be, but he's maintaining a good death stare.

"You got something to say to me, or are you wasting my time? 'Cause I don't take too kindly to that."

"Tim is getting everyone he can at the moment to help him whip your gang," Ponyboy announces.

"He is, now, is he?" The leader looks amused. "Look, kid, no matter if he's got a hundred of you, he can't whip us. We've got numbers. We've got height. We've got strength." He takes a drag off of a smoldering cigarette, blowing the smoke into their faces with a grin. "There ain't a chance in the world you could win."

"We could give your gang a run for your money, I bet."

"We ain't got no money, kid. There's no point in saying that."

"It's an expression!" Ponyboy looks frustrated as hell. "Point is, we can put up a fight. No matter whether we win or not, you know sure as hell Tim Shepard will try his damnedest to kill you, or at least, beat you to a pulp. I wouldn't want him even half succeeding in doing that to me." He pauses. "You may be tough, but you aren't tough enough to stand against Tim Shepard."

"And my brother especially don't like anyone picking on me or Curly," Angela pipes up. "Think Tim angry, times a hundred."

For a moment, the Brumly almost looks like he's considering what they've said. "I don't know why you're telling me this. You're on their side. Why give them the advantage?"

"We don't want a fight," Pony says.

"You're doing all of this to avoid a fight?" The Brumly laughs. "Damn, you're a bunch of pansies."

"Now you listen here," Pony says angrily. "We ain't pansies." Angela notices that he slips back into improper grammar when the real anger comes forth. "But Tim doesn't know we're here. He'll be mighty pissed if he finds out. We're doing you a favor out of guilt."

"Guilt from...?"

Pony sighs and looks at the floor for a moment; then his eyes flick back up to the Brumly's determined. "We lied about why Curly got cut. We said we were just crossing through and you jumped him."

_What the fuck?_ Is he meaning to get them killed? Why is he telling the truth?

"You little shit." The Brumly stamps out his cigarette angrily.

"Please," Angela says, before they get chopped into mincemeat. "You're afraid of Tim when he's mad. I'm his sister. I'm downright terrified him when he's pissed. I saved my own ass and Pony's. Now this is me tryin' to save yours. Tell him you don't want a fight when he comes. He's not mean enough to jump you when you won't give him a fair fight. Nobody'll get hurt, and once he's calmed down enough, we'll deal with him."

What?

What did she just say?

She had no intention of dealing with Tim until she said it.

But she realizes she's got no other choice.

Tim won't believe the Brumlys, of all people, backed down from a fight for no particular reason. There has to be a damn good one, and Angela will have to give it to him. She doesn't want to face her brother's wrath, but this is her fault and he'll go easier on her than on a Brumly.

Said Brumly leans forward. "You breathe a word of what I'm gonna say to you now, and I'll kill you, understand?"

Pony and Angela nod vigorously.

"But I got a little pity annoying the hell out of me somewhere. And I ain't lookin' forward to fighting Tim Shepard. So I'm gonna take you up on this. All right?"

Again, a nod. _Thank God._

"If Shepard or any one of his boys so much as throws a punch at one of mine on account of this, you're dead, though. You better make damn sure that Tim isn't pissed at us anymore. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Pony and Angela say as one.

"All right. Now thank me and get your sorry asses outta here."

They try and leave as quick as they can, but just as they're out the door, they hear the Brumly call something more to them.

"Good luck facing Shepard!"

* * *

**I have a question for you. Please, please answer. Post it as part of your review or all of your review, or drop me a PM if you like that better. But I'd really like your feedback.**

**How am I doing with the Pony/Angel relationship so far? Remember, it's only Day Two. Am I laying it on too thick? Is there not enough? **

**I'd like to know so I can decide which of two or three routes I'm gonna take this story in the next chapter. Thanks! (:**


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__ Thanks for the feedback, everyone! I decided that, this time around, I'd respond to individual reviewers just because the comments were so diverse._

_Chick1966 - The romance will pick up soon, I promise. ^-^ I just figured they've only known each other for two days, and Pony is kinda shy and slow to open up to people. Your wish shall be granted, though. As for updating, I've never been very good about that, especially with school. Sorry. And I will try to work some more sibling fluff into this - in fact, this particular chapter has some Shepard sibling fluff thrown in. _

_Katyarenah - I know you reviewed the first chapter, but it would be weird to update comments into that. xDD Thanks for the feedback; I'm glad you like it. And "bull" is something I hear a lot at school, so the teachers don't get on your case for saying "bullshit." I know cursing differs a lot by area, though, so, in essence, Angela was saying "bullshit" without saying "bullshit." If that makes sense? LOL._

_Breanne - Yes ma'am, I dig! It's something I've been playing with, too. Hopefully you'll see some more of Pony's feelings when Day 3 starts. Hinthint._

_All right, so, for this chapter, I've included some sibling pointless fluffiness and the start of the real Pony/Angel dynamic. Said romance will start picking up by Day 3, I can promise you that! If anything, I'm wary of putting too much romance in, since Pony's character is pretty shy. You'll forgive some OOCness for the sake of romance, no? Just kidding. Whatever. I'm rambling on now. Time for the actual writing to begin._

_By the way, this chapter was super fun to write. xD_

_Disclaimer shizz here. You know the drill._

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**Chapter Eight**

"So, you're going to tell your brother." Ponyboy kicks at the dirt, sending a cloud of dust into their faces. Angela coughs. Her eyes look down at that ground.

Her plan has fallen apart. This was supposed to get her closer to Pony, and now he looks about ready to take off running. She clings to the idea that he at least deserves her honesty, though, and so she says, "Yeah."

"I'll come with you."

His words are so unexpected that she nearly jumps out of her skin. He'll come with her? What? She was expecting for cold words of farewell. She's so unprepared that she trips over her words, messing them all up. "Come? With me?" Angela spits, half out of frustration and half out of the need to clear her throat. "Ponyboy, you don't need to. You don't understand, Tim will be pissed..."

Angela had always prided herself on her way around guys. She had every single one she tried to get wrapped around her finger, or, at least, something close. Ponyboy was different from the start; she couldn't get him under her spell that quick. He saw it coming. She had to try a different approach, and look where it landed her ... And now, when he offered to do something with her - albeit something that was dangerous for him - she turned him down.

Well, it wasn't like he asked her on a date.

Without a doubt, the answer would have been yes.

"It's my fault, too, partly." Ponyboy pauses. "And Curly's. He better help us explain, or he's dead meat."

Angela laughs. Funny, but she never saw Pony to be the threatening type. He looks at her like she's crazy for being amused, though, and so she shuts up, saying, "I'll make him."

Ponyboy rubs his hands together. "So, when were you planning on facing Tim?"

"I figure now's as good a time as any."

"Right," Pony says, breathing out slowly. "Better to get it over with, huh?"

"Mmh." She motions for him to follow her as they walk down the street.

**xxxxxx**

"All right, Curly," Angela says, perching on the edge of the younger of her two brothers' bed. "This is how it's gonna go. Either you explain your side to Tim, or we do, and we tell every little detail."

"Ange-"

"Nope. No arguments, Curly."

"This is your mess, kid!"

"You were the one who was talented enough to get knifed. Jesus."

"Goddamn it."

When all Curly utters is a swear word, Angela knows she's won. She looks back to Ponyboy, who has pressed himself into the corner, an attempt to give the siblings some space. She smiles.

"Let's do this?"

"Yeah." He gives her something that looks like it's supposed to be a grin.

Curly glares.

They venture downstairs. Pony sticks close to Angela, which she likes. Maybe it's because he's slightly intimidated of Curly ... or maybe her imagination is right. But that is not the matter at hand.

Tim is in the kitchen, going through the pantry looking for something edible. When he hears them, he looks up, instantly suspicious. "Spit it out."

"We haven't even said anything yet!" Angela protests.

"Tell me how it looks not suspicious, the three of you comin' down here and starin' at me." Tim shoves a handful of cereal in his mouth. "Curls, I thought I told you to stay in bed."

Curly doesn't say anything, just stares stoically ahead.

"If you ain't talking in thirty seconds, I'm going over to Buck's, and you can find somebody else's time to waste."

"Tim," Angela says, "listen to us before you say anything, okay?"

"And why the hell-"

"And stuff your face with cereal," Curly adds. "Or chips. That works, too."

Tim is not impressed. He puts down the box of cereal. "All right. Let me tell you how this is going to work. You are going to tell me what the hell is up your asses today, or I'm gonna skin y'all alive."

Pony pulls Angela aside for a moment. "Maybe it's best he hears it from me," he suggests. "I'm not family, maybe he'll listen."

"Pone-"

"Let him," Curly says. Angela relents, and Pony steps forward.

"Tim," he says, soft, "it's a long story. It starts with me and my brother practically ripping each other's heads off."

Tim is interested now, leaning against the counter.

"I wanted to prove to him that I'm not a little kid anymore ... and Curly said he had a fight I could join. I figured if we won the fight by a lot, I could use it to help my case with Darry."

"Wait a second." Tim narrows his eyes.

"Keep questions and comments 'til the end," Curly interrupts him, mimmicking a teacher. He even peers down imaginary glasses.

"When we were discussing the fight," Ponyboy continues like nothing happened, "Angela came down and told us she was coming with us. We tried to make her stay, but she threatened to tell you. So she came. It turned out that no one who was supposed to be at the fight was there, and there were five Brumlys. They wouldn't let us back out. We told them that, to make it fair, we would still fight. Just skin on skin."

"You-"

"Shut it Tim," Angela says daringly.

"It was going fine until the leader pulled a knife."

"YOU TOLD ME-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP AND LISTEN, WILL YOU?"

Amid the siblings' bicker, Pony has moved back a little. He takes a deep breath. "Curly got cut, Angela screamed at the Brumlys, and they ran. We took Curls to the hospital. They stitched him up. He told us we'd better come up with a story, so we did."

Tim is making an effort to keep his mouth sealed.

"It was going fine until we found out you were getting people to take the Brumlys by surprise. We didn't want anyone getting hurt, so we went to the Brumlys and-"

"YOU DID _WHAT?_"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, TIM!"

"-and told them that we'd convince you to not fight them, since they wouldn't have enough time to gather up enough people to match you. Then they wouldn't fight you for this reason. It would all be good." Ponyboy pauses for as long a moment as is safe. "And this is us trying to explain to you that it's our fault, and you shouldn't let anyone fight."

Angela is expecting her brother to explode the moment Pony is done, but, instead, there's silence. Tim puts a hand over his eyes.

"Damn it," he whispers. Somehow the quietly spoken words manage to hold so much more fury than if he was yelling at the top of his lungs. "You know what? Fine. Fuck it. I'll call off the fucking fight."

Angela knows it's too soon to be happy yet.

"But you-all of you-get out. I don't want to look at you. I don't want to see as much as a fucking hair for the next couple of days."

They're all too stunned to speak.

"I said, get out, Goddamn it! Now!"

Angela, Curly, and Pony get out, fast as they can. Angela's heart is beating wildly. Once they're a safe distance from the house, they catch their breath.

"I thought he was just going to beat the tar out of us, and have it done," she says.

"Man, I never seen him so pissed." Curly sighs. "'Cept maybe when he caught me smoking speed."

"What?" Angela stares at her brother. "What the hell?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. I ain't touched it before or since."

Forgetting about Curly and his stupidity, Angela turns to Ponyboy. He's looking slouched, defeated. "Hey," she says gently. "You were brilliant."

"He sent you away."

"It coulda gone much, much worse. It would have if me or Curly explained it."

"I don't know."

"Damn straight you don't. And I'm right." She feels that now, she can hug him. So she does, for a fleeting second. But she's not going to push her luck any further today. "Thank you."

"Welcome," he whispers, the trace of a smile on his lips.

Curly ruins whatever beginnings of a moment they had. "Where you gonna stay tonight, Angel? I was thinking of goin' to Alan's place."

"I don't know."

"Well, you better start thinkin', huh?"

She's about to throw him a nasty remark when Ponyboy says, "She could sleep at my place. We've got an extra bed."

Curly bites his lip. "Well..."

_Please, Curly._

"Your brothers will probably treat her better than my friends."

_Yes. Thank you._

"Sounds perfect," Angela says brightly.

When the last bit of light has left the streets, Pony walks her to his house. She's too tired to think of anything when she falls asleep on the bed he offers her.

**Day 2 : End**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:**__ I'm proud of myself for updating this fast (at least for me). This chapter came amazingly easy to me to write. However, I typed it entirely on my iPod. Not even iPad. iPod. So please excuse any little errors. This is also a bit short, but the ending felt like such a good place to stop. Now that the story has picked up, you can—maybe—expect more frequent updates._

_Those of you waiting for the action—voilá. There you go. Now, some reviews would be lovely in return. :3_

_Thanks very much to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate all of you._

_I don't own the Outsiders...still..._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Day 3 : Start**

The first thing Angela notices when she wakes up is there's no Pepsi stain on the ceiling.

Is she dead? Did Tim finally find a way to get that infernal stain off?

Ever since she was ten years old, it was there. She can't remember how it got there, just that, after a fight with Curly, half a bottle's worth of Pepsi ended up dripping from the ceiling.

Tim made her scrub at it for an hour. Then had Curly try. Then, fuming, he'd taken a rag to it himself. Unsuccessfully. And there the Pepsi remains, to this day...

But it's not on the ceiling now...

She realizes with a jolt where she is. The Curtis house. Ponyboy's house. Light leaks in through green curtains that are much more sheer than the ones in her room.

By the amount of sun that's pouring in, Angela estimates it's almost noon. How did she sleep that long? All she can remember of the previous night is Tim telling her to get out. His anger, how he looked more pissed than she'd ever seen him. Angela was often intimidated by her brother, but never downright scared.

Except for last night.

That Tim scared her.

Angela gets out of whoever's bed it is and walks over to the window, using her reflection to smooth her hair and her clothes. Tim didn't give her a chance to grab a change of outfit, so, for now, she's stuck with what she's wearing. Wrinkles or no.

Deciding she's presentable, she cautiously slips into the hallway. There are voices coming from the kitchen, and she follows them.

Ponyboy and his brothers are sitting at the table, a misshapen sandwich in front of each of them. So it is lunch time. The eldest brother, Darry, looks up at her curiously.

"Angela. Hey. We were just eating lunch. If you're hungry, I'm sure Pony could make you something, too..." He trails off uncertainly, and it appears that he kicks Pony under the table. Pony glares, but stands up.

"Hey, Angel," he mumbles. "You sleep okay? Soda keeps complaining about that bed being lumpy."

In all honesty, she was too tired to think about the quality of the mattress last night. But she slept well. "Yep," she says. "Thanks for, um, you know."

"Yeah, I know," he says with a grin. "But don't thank me. Thank Darry." He then leans in to whisper something to her. "And I thank you, 'cause Darry woulda skinned me alive if you weren't here. Tim stopped by this morning and ratted me out. Darry was just too conscious of the sleeping beauty in the house to yell any."

"It's your lucky day."

"Sure is." Pony finishes the last touches of another odd-looking sandwich and hands the plate to her. "Isn't much, but I'm not a cook."

"You should see what Curly makes."

"You should see what _Soda_ makes."

"Blue pancakes," Soda supplies cheerfully.

Angela has sat down and taken a bite out of the sandwich when Darry clears his throat.

"So, Angela, I hear Pony caused some trouble with the Brumlys."

She stops mid-chew. "_Me and Curly_. And Pony. He didn't do anything wrong, though. He mostly helped."

Darry isn't impressed. "And that's why Tim came and told me a whole lotta stuff he's done wrong in the past two days."

"Tim lies sometimes." Angela has no idea what she's doing or why. Besides digging her hole deeper.

"You sayin' he's lying?" Darry asks with a raised eyebrow.

Pony catches her gaze meaningfully.

"Um." Angela swallows. "Nope, I guess not." A pause the length of a heartbeat—just long enough to be noticeable, but not long enough for Darry to start talking again. "Don't be mad at Ponyboy." She tacks on, "Please."

"He's as involved as you, far as I'm concerned."

"He came up with the plan to stop the fight. If he hadn't been there, Tim's gang and the Brumlys woulda had one hell of a rumble. Not just skin, neither."

Soda is studiously chewing circles around the edges of his sandwich, and Ponyboy is sporting an expression that's a little too hopeful.

"Well, I ain't gonna chew him out with a lady over." Darry takes a matter-of-fact sip from his glass. "But don't think you're off the hook, Ponyboy Michael."

Ponyboy beams brilliantly anyway.

When they're all done eating, Ponyboy swipes the dishes and throws them in the sink. Then he leads Angela outside, calling to Darry they'll be back in an hour or so.

They walk in silence for a while, and, somehow, it's not exactly awkward.

"Thanks again," Ponyboy says after a few long moments.

"It's what I'd expect you to do with me and Tim."

"Not making any promises," he tells her with a laugh. "Tim is scary, man."

"And your brother isn't?"

"Naw." Pony shakes his head. "He's huge, sure, and loud. But he's all bark."

"You don't seem too keen on testing him."

"Yeah, well ... I'm his brother. He can do whatever he wants with me. He wouldn't dare say as much as an improper word to a girl. And Tim..."

"Tim would kick your ass. Yeah, I get it."

Angela wonders what Tim is doing now. She wonders if he's still mad. God knows she's wanted to run away before, but now that she's not allowed to go back, she wants to so bad. She wants someone as steady as Tim. Even Curly. Hell, it even hasn't been a full day since she last saw them, and she's already missing them. Maybe it's because she didn't leave of her own accord.

To break this particular silence, Pony breathes out slowly. "Look, Angel. I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea." He gazes at her with those wide, green eyes. They hold an apology and a warning.

No.

She can't take another rejection. Not after her last boyfriend hit her. Not after Curly decided to hate her. Not after Tim sent her away.

"I'd quite like getting that wrong idea."

She tries to grin as she says the words, but some of the humor is lost in translation.

"Angela..." Ponyboy's mouth is set in a grim line.

"Ponyboy." She grabs his hand. "I really like you, and usually I ain't so passive in picking up guys. But you're different. Don't be afraid of me because I've got a reputation, Pony. If I've ever seriously wanted someone, it's you."

"So this is not just a game, you chasing after me?"

"Not at all."

Pony smiles, then, fully.

Angela smiles back.

"We sound like old saps." They both laugh. She continues, "What I mean is, give me a chance. Maybe I'll surprise you. You dig?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Angel, I dig." He bites his lip. "You look real pretty, you know that?"

That's nothing she hasn't heard before.

But the feeling his words evoke...now that is something blissfully new.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:**__ I wouldn't call this romance ... more just like a lot of hopeful, pre-romance fluff. And some teeeeeny tiny drops of angst in there. This seemed like where the story needed to go. I was all prepared to write a scene at the Dingo. Then Pony refused to cooperate, and I ended up with a forest and a majorly OOC Angela. Well, let me know what you think. I agree that the normal Angela will me reappearing soon. She's just a bit shaken up at the moment._

_Disclaimers, warnings, yadda yadda yadda. Reviews would be lovely._

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The tension eases between them, just a little.

Angela can feel Pony isn't quite as intimidated by her anymore. He's more open. He tells her things she feels lucky to be trusted with. She tries her best to find things worthy to tell him in return. It's not the most romantic exchange, but it's sweet. Better than guys who just want to kiss, to touch, to have a good time. Ponyboy doesn't push his limits, and she appreciates that.

She likes it when she's the one who gets to push them.

It's obvious he hasn't done much by way of girls before, though. She won't test him until he's comfortable. She'll give him his time, as much as that face of his beckons to her. She throws a silent thank-you to his mama and daddy. They sure knew how to create beautiful people, what with gorgeous Soda; big, strong Darry; and gentle, kind Ponyboy.

Angela has never been steady with a quiet boy before. Most of the time, the shy ones are frightened by her reputation. The quiet ones are never looking for bodies, just personalities. And Angela has been known for her one-of-a-kind bitch face. Oh, she knows she's quite talented at pulling it out. But she only does when it's needed, and she finds it real nice that she hasn't had to with Pony.

They head back to be on time like Darry told them; she doesn't protest because she doesn't want him in any more trouble. When they're only a few blocks away, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, takes one for himself, and offers her one. He digs out a lighter and lights hers for her, before he does his. They breathe in the smoke at the same time, though, and she blows it out when he does.

A cigarette has never made her feel this good.

Smoking was a habit Angela picked up from Curly and Tim. There was always a pack or two lying around somewhere. When she was eleven, she decided to try one. Tim went ape shit on her, but, after that, she kept smoking, and he decided there wasn't much he could do about it. Angela has a feeling he doesn't really care, anyway.

Tim likes to try and play the responsible older brother. When it suits him.

Pony and Angela get to the Curtis house a few minutes ahead of schedule. Darry looks up, surprised, but nods approvingly. Angela supposes he wasn't expecting such promptness from her. After all, she is a Shepard. Perhaps the worst of all Shepards, as far as trashiness goes. And that's never bothered her before.

A couple guys come over throughout the day. A kid with ridiculous red sideburns, whose name Angel can't remember but cracks some great jokes. He's got a certain charm. A heavyset kid comes back from the DX with Soda, all surly and muscled. He ignores her except for making a snide remark about Tim.

Dallas used to run with this gang. The most hood-like of them all. Yep, she remembers Dallas. Remembers him like the back of her hand. Cold, strangely tempting Dallas. She would've tried to get close and personal with him if she hadn't feared Tim's reaction. Most of the time, Tim does pretend to be angry. Just for effect. But Angela knows his limits and knows not to try him. Yesterday, when he kicked her out ... that would have been nothing compared to if she tried to seduce Tim's dangerous friend at fourteen.

When Darry is making dinner, there's a loud knock at the door. Pony looks surprised; he makes a comment about how no one ever bothers to knock. When he answers the door, it's Curly.

Her brother has his hands shoved in his pockets. He looks down. "Hey."

"Hey, come in," Ponyboy says, moving to admit him.

Angela immediately looks to Curly. "Is Tim still pissed?"

"You mean, is it smart to go back?" Curly asks bitterly. "I'd say no. I heard talk at Buck's that Tim went and got himself beyond drunk last night. Punched Toby a good one."

"Oh." It's not much of a word, more of a whisper-sound that escaped her lips.

She hates it when Tim is mad at her.

She must appear so downcast Curly sees it. Well, there's no way he can't see it - she isn't one to show everything she's feeling. She tries to style that calm look after Curly, who does a passable version of it, since Tim is even better. She doesn't get it right, but she's definitely never open like this.

"Hey, kid, look at me," Curly mutters, gruff. Angela's eyes rise to his. "I shoulda owned up, or something. And shoulda never even Goddamned consider letting you come to that rumble with me and Pony."

"What's done is done," she says. Not to placate him because she feels it's okay. Angela just wants him to get back to the way he normally is. This Curly that would apologize is scaring her.

Darry lets Curly stay for dinner, and he leaves right after to get back to Alan's.

**xxxxxx**

"What d'ya say we head over to the Dingo?"

It's barely dusk outside, and the Curtis house is way too quiet for Angela's liking. She looks at Ponyboy hopefully. _Please, say yes._

"I gotta ask Darry." He bites his lip. "Darry!"

"Yeah?" Pony's brother calls from the kitchen, where he's paying some bill or another.

"Angel wants to go someplace. That okay with you?"

There's a moment of consideration. "You better be back by midnight. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Ponyboy says, smiling. "Thanks, Darry!"

This time, it's Pony that grabs Angela's hand and pulls her out the door.

"You really wanna go to the Dingo?" he asks when they're about a block away from the house. "Or would you be up for something different?"

Ponyboy's eyes are aglow. She can't refuse something like that. "Sure," she tells him. "What's this something?"

"A thousand times better than the Dingo. Calmer, too. Trust me on this, 'kay?"

Angela doesn't know this side of Tulsa well, so she has no idea where Pony is leading her. The streets get darker and darker as the pink in the sky fades to purple. They don't say much, just breathe in the night air like it tastes delicious. It almost does, if she concentrates on it hard enough. It was nice to have an innocent day for a while. Just talking, living, being respectable. This is the person she wanted to be, for fleeting moments in her life. She gave up on the hope long ago. She's a Shepard. She can't live her life like this.

But she can live a day like this.

Ponyboy stops at the edge of a small forest. Mostly thick evergreens, coated with moss and forming a roof overhead. Too many shadows loom between the trees, but Pony looks so eager she follows him cautiously. He can sense her fear.

"Don't be scared," he says. "Just follow me."

He leads her deeper into the trees until they reach a little clearing. A natural one. The trees form a circular wall around it. Moss cushions the ground and hangs off of the limbs of the trees. A single fallen log slices the clearing in half, already covered in moss. Ponyboy sits down on it gingerly. Angela follows suit.

"Listen."

She listens, and all she hears is the faint rumbling of a car in the distance.

Ponyboy glances over at her for a second. Then he slides to the ground so that his back is resting against the log, and, again, Angela copies him. He tilts his head back, staring at the sky. She does the same.

"Ain't that beautiful?"

She notices he reverted back into 'ain't.'

Her eyes study the sky, just a mesh of dark colors now. In the beginning, it just looks like sky. But as she waits, she can see what Pony sees, almost. She can, for a short moment, think like he does.

"Yeah," Angela tells him. "Yeah, that's real beautiful."

And it is. The hues blend together better than any artist could ever do it. Navy, deep violet, a few drops of burgundy and black. "How do you find this?" she wonders aloud.

"Huh?"

"I look at the sky and see just sky. How do you make yourself notice these things?"

Ponyboy sighs. It's not unhappy. "It's not something I try to do. Just something that happens. I've always seen like that, always thought like that. Hardly anybody understands."

There's a hitch in his voice, and that's what makes her hesitate before she asks, "Who?"

"My brother Soda, he gets it. If I point it out to him. That's better than Darry. He can't see it at all."

"And?" Angela feels the need to push him.

"I don't know if you ever saw him. But Johnny Cade ... he was my buddy. We thought alike. But he had it hard. He was too good, man. He died because of it."

"And Dallas..."

Angela knows instantly she should not have brought up Dallas Winston. She clamps her mouth shut tight.

Ponyboy stiffens, closes his eyes.

"I shoulda showed Dally," he whispers. "Johnny told me to."

He seems like he's in pain, now. She puts a hand on his arm.

"Hey," she finds herself whispering. "Don't. You're okay. It's over and done with. Look at the sky. They're up there now, you know? You said yourself it's beautiful. And it is."

Angela has no idea where this thoughtfulness and almost sappiness has come from. But she feels Ponyboy relax next to her.

All is quiet, and, again, she listens. Blocks out the noises of the cars. The city. Listens to the forest, or tries to.

The birds are silent. Asleep, most likely. But a tiny breeze makes the trees quiver, and some sort of animal is traipsing around on the forest floor. The leaves are crunching under its feet. There aren't any crickets, like they always seem to put in movies, but there are tiny sounds of life that are so much more impacting.

When Angela glances over at him again, Ponyboy is smiling slightly.

She doesn't feel like herself at all today, but maybe that's not a bad thing. She has a feeling that tomorrow, she'll wake up and be the same Angela Shepard. Bitch queen supreme.

But she'll hang onto this Angela until midnight.

She closes her eyes, and she listens.

**Day 3 : Finish**


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This took me a little longer to write, but it's also a little longer than I'm used to writing. Also, here comes the romance! I expect some reviews in return, please and thanks. Reviews mean love. :3

As much as I wish I owned the Outsiders ... nope.

Anddd, you know the drill.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Day 4 : Start**

Angela wakes to a soft knock on the door.

This morning, she's not disoriented. She remembers she's at the Curtis house, remembers what she did all day yesterday with Ponyboy. Only, this morning, it's not the sunlight of noon that meets her eyes. The sun is still rising, staining the room with pink and orange. It bleeds through the curtains.

Ponyboy opens the door, then, and sticks his head inside. "Hey, Angel?"

"Yeah?" she asks, shaking the sleep-mussed hair out of her eyes.

He enters the full way. "Morning."

"Morning."

"So, I gotta go to school today - Darry's making me. You don't have to come, but he and Soda are heading off to work. You'd be alone. Either-"

Angela interrupts him. "I do go to school sometimes, you know."

A blush creeps up his neck. "I know. Just sayin.'"

She would joke around with him more, but she's still mighty tired. "Thanks," she amends. "I guess I'll go, then. Don't wanna stay here alone in someone else's house." As Angela slides out of the spare bed, she realizes something.

Clothes.

She's in the same outfit she wore since Tim kicked her and Curly out. It was wrinkled yesterday, and now it's dirty from the forest. It smells of leaves and dirt. And sweat. There is no way she's going to school like that. No matter how she acts around Pony, she is still Angela Shepard. She still has a reputation to maintain. She's not losing her status because of some moss and a bitchy older brother.

Ponyboy's eyes follow her gaze, noticing the state of disarray her clothes are in. "You don't have anything else?"

"Nope, and I ain't taking my chances that Tim'll be at the house."

He swallows, scuffs his foot uncomfortably, and says, "You could wear some of my mama's old stuff." He doesn't tell her to come with him, just leaves. She follows instinctively. He ends up at the door to the last room down the hallway. It's closed, as if in reference. When he opens it, it squeaks.

Inside is a scene like in a tableaux, perfectly preserved. A made bed. Clock ticking on the wall. Curtains open to expose light peeking through the blinds. It looks like someone comes in here and dusts the place, because the wood of the nightstands shines.

Ponyboy makes his way to the closet in the far corner, pulling it open. A clean split down the middle separates a woman's clothing and a man's. All of it is very nondescript, nothing flashy. Nothing expensive. "We couldn't sell any of this," he whispers. "Some of it even smells of them."

There's such longing and sorrow in his voice. Angela can't empathize. All she's ever known is her drunk father and their long list of stepmothers. She believes she's on her third. The woman likes to scream and wander around in scanty clothing. Her daddy sure has a taste for women he ain't able to handle.

But she can sympathize. She sees how this room affects Pony. She can't do that to him. "What did she hardly ever wear?"

"Huh?"

"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna wear something that your mama loved. Something that you saw her wearing. What did she never touch?"

Ponyboy sifts through the hangers, pushing clothes aside. "These," he says, gesturing to a small section of things. "And ... thanks."

"Welcome," Angela says, looking through the remanining options. She ends up with something plain. It's not by any means in style, but it doesn't look old. She wouldn't mind being seen in public with this, though it ain't gonna make the guys come to her like flies, as some of her own clothes do. Seeing the sort of things Mrs. Curtis wore, she appreciates Pony's mama even more. "This is good."

They leave the room, and Pony shuts the door quietly behind her. Angela goes back to the spare room, and he heads to the kitchen while she changes. When she emerges to join the Curtis brothers, she stops in the bathroom to take a glance at her reflection. She looks almost respectable. It seems foreign on her, and she feels strange in a dead woman's old clothes, but she doesn't look bad.

Both Soda and Darry are surprised when they see what she's wearing. Ponyboy fills them in quickly, and they nod. Darry does it stoically. Soda does with a rueful smile.

She picks at eggs and toast and realizes this is the best she's eaten in a while. Tim can't shop for shit. Curly doesn't bother. Their stepmother is too busy complaining about this or that, or doing who-knows-what who-knows-where. And their father? Give him any money, and he spends it on drink.

Angela's left to her own devices to shop unless Tim does. And their food money is always dwindling, probably at the same rate their father's drunkenness is increasing.

Soda leaves for the DX soon after. About ten minutes later, Darry loads Pony and Angela into his truck and drives them to the school. They ride in silence. Darry doesn't seem to know what to say.

Not many are there to see Angela leaving the Curtis truck. It seems that Darry is one to arrive early. Angela just follows Pony to his locker before going to her own, and she says a few words to him.

"Thanks for all of this, hey."

Pony glances up at her. "Hm? Right. Oh. Yeah. You're welcome."

There goes another blush - this time, probably at his awkwardness.

"You have first lunch?"

He shakes his head. "Second," he answers.

"Well," she tells him, grinning a little, "then I'll see you after school. Savvy?"

"Savvy."

They part ways, and Angela feels herself a little happier the whole day.

Everything is going smoothly until lunch. She's confronted by a girl who she was on good terms with the last time they made contact. It's an either-or. Sometimes, she hates the girl. Sometimes, she can tolerate her.

"Lynn saw you coming to school with Ponyboy Curtis," Carol announces. Though her voice is normally loud, it seems she shouts the fact even louder. She also manages to say Pony's name like it's something disgusting. "That true?"

"If it is?"

"What about Mike?"

Mike. The bastard decided Angela would look nicer with a black eye. "Mike was a piece of shit."

"So you go for _Curtis_?" Carol laughs. "Honey, you're stooping _low_." She pauses dramatically. "Lynn's boyfriend said that Curly said that Tim kicked you out."

"Curly wouldn't tell Lynn's boyfriend if he had."

Carol's smile is sadistic. "Oh, is that right?" The smile widens. "Angela Shepard, I don't know what's gotten into you."

As Carol turns to leave, Angela is relieved.

But the girl has one last thing to say. "And, Shepard? Don't you remember you're only supposed to come to school on Wednesdays and Thursdays?"

That bitch, Angela thinks, and is miserable for the rest of the day until history.

**xxxxxx**

Ponyboy is far too smart. He skipped a grade. He's in all advanced classes. Except, apparently, history. Well, how can history be advanced? It's the only class Angela has with him. She makes sure today she doesn't fall asleep during it.

He does always seemed tuned out in history, though. Maybe that's because his interests lie elsewhere. She doesn't have anything to base it on, because it's their only shared class. He's all the way across the room, in the back by the window. The teacher made sure to put her up front; with Tim and Curly before her, teachers never have high expectations.

After history, Angela quickly drops her things off at her locker and meets Ponyboy at his. He sees her and smiles. "I escaped without homework today," he says.

"My math teacher assigned something." She probably won't do it. The teachers pass her out of fear of Tim.

"You okay with ignoring it?"

"You kidding me?"

He goes on fluidly. "'Cause, I was thinking we could, ya know, go somewhere."

"Where?"

"I dunno. That park on First, maybe?"

"Sure." She notices how he's very specific with the parks. There are two in the area. The one on First is in rich kid territory. But the one the hoods own ... things have happened in that park. And the Socs never use theirs, anyway.

Ponyboy hunts down the other kid, whose name Angela now knows is Steve, to tell Darry he doesn't have homework. Then Pony and Angela leave, walking at a mild pace. He makes sure he's always in step with Angela. It's kind of sweet.

They make small talk until they're at the park, where Pony finds a bench and sits, pulling her to sit next to him. He stares off into the distance. She doesn't say anything, trying not to disturb his train of thought.

"You know Angel," he mumbles after a while, "you ain't who I thought you were a few days ago."

"I ain't who _I_ thought I was a few days ago."

He grins at that. "I guess that's why they say don't judge a book by its cover, huh?"

"Who says that?"

"No one, I guess." Ponyboy's brows pull together. "It's just an idiom."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," he says with a laugh. "Soda doesn't get it, either."

And that makes it a little better. She doesn't feel stupid, because she can see how much Ponyboy idolizes Sodapop. To be compared to Soda is a good thing, she knows.

"You're a good guy, Pony," she tells him.

"Thanks." Ponyboy is serious. "You dig okay."

"You steal that from somebody?" she asks. "'Cause I really don't think you'd say that."

"Um." He bites his lip sheepishly. "Yeah. From Two-bit."

Angela smiles. "Nah, it's fine. I've just heard that from far too many guys. Not half of them meant it."

"I mean it," Pony says earnestly.

He does. She can tell.

That's why she leans in impulsively and presses her lips to his. Cautious at first. She doesn't know if he wants this.

He kisses her back.

He's hesitant, too. And he's not a wonderful kisser. Perhaps passable. Still, somehow, it feels better than any kiss from some of the most experienced guys she's been with. Truer. Definitely more innocent. More meant to be. It has a purpose, and the purpose is a good one.

When she heard other girls talk about electricity in a kiss, she never understood them. Now she does. Because she literally can feel the sparks, taste the sweetness.

Damn, Ponyboy is sweet. Warm.

And when he moves his hand to touch her, it's not on her chest, under her shirt, or on her leg. It's very softly, the ghost of a hand on her arm. He's considerate. He's wary.

It's beautiful.

She's never kissed a guy who thought of her before.

They break apart. He's breathless. For the first time since her first kiss, she is, too.

"Thank you, Ponyboy," she says quietly.

"For what?"

She doesn't know exactly how to answer. She stares into the sky. Finally, words come. They don't make much sense, but she feels that she should say them. "For being right."

They're both content. Angela can feel it.

"You done that before?" she asks.

"Once. Wasn't the instigator." He pauses. "So, how do I measure up?"

Laughing, she wonders, "As a kisser?"

"Mmhmm."

She likes this daring, joking Ponyboy. "Not bad ... Out of ten, maybe a six."

"Six." He's incredulous.

"Honey, you can't think you're better than all the hoods in the city." Then she grows serious. "What we had ... it wasn't the kiss that was good, Pony. It was completely average, to be honest. It was more of the feeling that made it nice. You were actually thinking of me. I felt appreciated. You made me happy, I made you happy. Let me tell you, that's not how just any Angela Shepard make-out works."

His face is the reddest she's seen it today.

"That a good thing?"

"Yep." She grins. "Yeah, it's a great thing ... What do you say we go get us some Pepsi?"

Pony jumps up from the bench. "Let's go."

* * *

**How is the romance? Too much? Too cheesy? Too little? I tried to balance the fluff out with some awkwardness (let's face it, no inexperienced kiss is going to be perfect.) But romance is not my strong suit, so please let me know. Feedback helps a lot. More than you know. Pretty please with a cherry on top. (:**


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N:**__ I've gotta say, I was planning on letting the story sit for a little bit, so I could focus on school and my other, non fanfiction writing projects. Then I got the sweetest review yesterday. It made my day and reminded me to update. Thank you._

_This was meant to be a ball of fluff and then ended up a lot deeper than I expected. I'm not really sure of the last line ... It confuses me, but I kinda like it Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Please review._

_Language, don't own. Same as usual._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

The DX Soda works at is on the way to the Curtis house from the park. They make their way there slowly; they don't have any reason to hurry, since, if Steve was true to his word, Darry is already aware of their absence. They don't talk much. Angela think it's might be because Ponyboy is too stunned for words.

Or rather, she likes to think that.

In reality, Pony is just a quiet person. It doesn't seem odd when he decides it's time to be silent, because it feels natural on him. And then she's silent, too, not wanting to disrupt whatever thoughts are going through his head. No doubt they're important, unlike some of the other guys she's been with. The thoughts going through their heads were probably perverted or violent. Things she wouldn't mind disrupting-things that it might be better, for their sake, to disrupt.

Soda is inside the little store at the DX, flirting with some girls as they buy some candy. west-side girls, or Socs, and some called them. Sodapop is one lucky greaser; most Soc girls would demand money to so much as look at someone from the east side.

When the girls are gone, Soda looks up and grins at Pony and Angela. "How's it goin'?" he asks.

"Okay," Ponyboy says. Then, quickly, he amends, "No, good. Good."

"Good?" Soda repeats, glancing at Angela.

She doesn't blush. That's a talent she's perfected over the years, better than anyone she knows. Hell, she's seen even Tim blush a couple times. But Angela Shepard don't blush. Don't even look embarrassed. When guys have been gawking at you from the time you first put on some of your step-mom's makeup, you know how to keep the blood away from your face.

"Yes." She says it smugly, precisely, and Soda's grin only widens.

"Wow, Pony," he says. "Who was your last girlfriend? Sonya?"

"She wasn't my girlfriend!"

Apparently Pony has not learned to keep the blood away from his face.

"All right, all right," Soda says defensively, holding up his hands in a peace gesture. "But you-"

"No," Ponyboy says acidly. "No."

"Oka-ay."

Angela is quite amused by the scene unfolding in front of her. "Hey, we didn't come here for you to grill him. We wanted Pepsis." She digs around in her pocket for some spare change, but Pony shakes his head.

"I'll pay."

While Soda grabs two bottles of Pepsi, he finds some money in his coat and then hands it to his brother. Soda dumps it haphazardly in the till of the cash register.

They sit down at the sole table, and Soda follows because there aren't any other customers.

"You're not supposed to be socializing," Pony says. "You're supposed to be working."

"I _am_ working. I'm taking care of my customers, ain't I?"

Ponyboy rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything.

"So, Angela," Soda ventures. "Give me the story."

"There isn't one."

"Oh?" He quirks an eyebrow. "I'm sure there is."

"There _isn't_." Ponyboy's voice is a growl. "Geez, Soda, normally you don't bug me like this."

Soda grins. "You got a girl now."

"I never bugged you about Sandy, did I?"

The teasing atmosphere suddenly turns cold. Any trace of a smile has disappeared from Soda's face, as if it were wiped off. He opens his mouth and closes it, but he doesn't say anything. For a moment, he averts his eyes.

"Shit," Ponyboy mumbles. "Damn, Soda, I'm sorry. I shouldn'ta said anything. That was real inconsiderate of me. I'm sorry, really-"

"Shut up, Pony." Soda slings an arm over his younger brother's shoulders with a small, sad smile. No, not a smile. Just a twist of the lips. "Don't say you're sorry. I need to learn to get over her, you know? I'm being such a pansy."

"No, you're not."

"Hey, don't deny it, kid. You always need to tell me the truth, and damn straight you know I'm being a pansy."

Angela doesn't understand what they're talking about, but she tries to make herself as invisible as possible. She doesn't want to get in the middle of this. It's nice, in an odd way. If she or Curly brought up someone that Tim hadn't gotten over, like it seems Soda hasn't gotten over this Sandy, he would've become a force to reckon with.

Sometimes, Angela wishes her brothers weren't so set on being tough. That she herself didn't have to act tough.

They all finish their Pepsis in silence, and Soda mutters something about having to get back to work. Pony throws one last, desperate glance at his brother, and then leaves with Angela.

When they get out the door, unexpectedly, he loops his hand in hers.

"Thanks," he says.

She doesn't ask what for, because she knows he'll continue when he's ready.

He does. "That other girl, Sonya? She would've been all over Soda, asking him obnoxious questions, bugging him. Time when Sandy's brought up, he doesn't need anyone asking him questions. He needs to get over her, like he said. And I need to learn to keep my mouth shut." He bites his lip, blinks. "I used to be good at that, Two-bit said. Me and Johnny, we kept our mouths shut..."

Ponyboy sucks in a long breath.

Angela can't tell whether he needs the air or he's just trying to keep himself from leaking a tear or two. She wouldn't blame him; she read those newspaper articles about him and Dallas and the kid when it happened.

Though crying ain't something tough.

Once, Angela saw Tim cry.

Their father had been drunker than drunk and twice as irritable. He'd taken a couple swings at Tim, and was yelling something loud enough the neighbors could no doubt hear.

Tim didn't cry then.

But, finally, when Angela had had enough of her old man, and enough of Tim taking it, she'd pushed her way in between the two. Their father's fist had landed on her instead. And damn, that was a hard punch. It knocked her down. It hurt like shit.

And it made their father stop.

He never hit her, and hardly ever touched Tim or Curly. He wasn't bad like some of her friends' dads, who, when they were drunk, were dangerous. When he was drunk, he just got annoying. Most of the time.

He left and drank some more. Left her cradling an eye that was slowly blackening. The bruise would cover her whole cheek; her father's fist was huge, and she was young then. Small.

And Tim?

Tim cried then.

He cried and mumbled incoherently as he got a rag and wiped the tiny trickle of blood away from her lips. He cried as he pulled her into his arms, just for a second. One of his tears founds its way into her hair.

Then he let her go, stopped crying, got up, and walked out the door.

Tim hadn't cried since. Nor had he hugged her.

Angela thought sometimes it was that day Tim became a hood, not just a greaser.

She looks over at Ponyboy, and a solitary tear has escaped.

That's why he's not a hood. He's not afraid of this.

"Now I'm being such a pansy," he says, trying to smirk at himself. He wipes the tear away, and none follow it.

"No," she says, "you're not." She wraps her arms around his middle; it feels good to have someone support you like that, when they care. Tim cared, all those years ago, and it felt wonderful. "It's brave to show you feel, I think."

She's never thought that before.

She hadn't even thought it when the words came out of her mouth.

Pony is having an odd effect on her. She's thinking like him, saying things he might say.

She wonders where she left the old, bitchy Angela Shepard.

She wonders if she'll ever find her again.

But she and Pony find their way back to the Curtis house. Not much is said for the rest of the night.

In the air between them hangs a silent understanding.

They're more alike than they would think. More alike than they were born being. More alike than they were two days ago.

As Angela lies in bed, she wonders.

Who is the real Angela Shepard?

Who is she, when she strips away everything? Every false word, every false feeling? Has she changed for Pony, or has he washed away everything that shouldn't have been there?

Some small part of her hopes she's just changed. Because maybe then, she can change back. Maybe then, she can put back on her bitchy Angela Shepard clothes when it is required.

This Angela Shepard won't stay the queen bee of the east side hive very long.

**Day 4 : End**


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the wait! This chapter isn't terribly long, but I just went and typed it up on my mobile. There are bound to be errors. It isn't my favorite chapter; it just needed to get Pony and Angela somewhere. I knew where they needed to go, but not how: and then, just like that, Carol showed up. Also, there's an almost cliffhanger at the end. I apologize._

_Warning: The other chapters, without the swearing, could probably pass for K+. This has swearing and probably is a T in itself. There are mentions of some touchy stuff in Angela's past._

_Nope. Still don't own. _

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Day 5 : Start**

As soon as Angela and Pony are out of the truck and making their way to the front doors of the school, a thin figure places herself in their way.

Carol. And her eyes hold the promise of trouble.

Turning to Pony, Angela whispers, "Hey, can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Ponyboy says, nodding. He walks away, sits on the edge of a retaining wall where she can still see him. But out of earshot.

Good.

"Something you wanted?" she asks Carol, drawing herself up to her full height.

God, the look the other girl gives her is an evil one. Sure, Carol likes to gossip, but they never truly had a problem with each other. Angela doesn't understand.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Carol pauses for effect.

"Get on with it, would you?"

"Don't be ordering me around, you little slut."

Slut? Angela has had that word directed at her from many other people. But never Carol before; the other girl isn't what anyone would call chaste, either. "What the fuck?"

"I bet your big brother Tim wouldn't like you saying a word like that." Carol laughs condescendingly. "Oh, wait; dear Tim is wasting himself away. And threatened to beat the tar out of you if you came near him. But..." She trails off. "I can't say I blame him."

"I don't know who you think you are or what's up your ass today, but how about you explain to me what the hell you mean?"

"Rodney."

Carol says the name with venom. Drops of her spit find Angela's face.

Rodney.

"Jesus, Carol, that was months ago. You weren't going steady then. It was one night-"

"After I had raved about him earlier in the day? What was that, huh? What the hell was that?"

Angela tries to keep her cool. She's halfway between crying with the injustice and attacking Carol.

"How'd you find out?" she asks softly, closing her eyes.

Carol herself actually is crying. "He saw me with you, yesterday, at lunch. After school, he ... he asked about you, Shepard. He fucking _asked_ about you. He said something real quick about you, and I knew ... I asked him when. He told me."

Angela is attempting to breathe steady. She can't.

_It was one night._

"I really liked him, Angela Shepard. But I couldn't just keep him after that, could I? So we're done. And it's your fault, you slut."

Carol cries.

Angela swears softly.

She regrets that night. Rodney wasn't worth it, to be honest. Some guys are and some aren't. Rodney wasn't.

"I ought to rip your face off for doing what you did two months ago," Carol says. "But that would take too much effort, and you don't deserve that." She turns to leave, and as she walks away, she calls over her shoulder, "By lunch, the whole school will have heard the story of how much _fun_ you had with Curtis last night. I hope you're happy."

Carol is gone.

Ponyboy slides off the wall. He walks over to Angela and glances at her, concerned.

"Hey," he says. "What was that about?"

"Pony," she whispers numbly. "Pony, we...we're not going to want to be at school today."

He doesn't ask why. And she's eternally thankful to him for that.

He hesitates, but then he tells her it's all right. Asks her where she thinks they should go. His voice doesn't waver. But he's worried.

"Buck Merrill's," she says. "He's far enough. And I..." She doesn't say it, but she wants some alcohol. Or Pony. Pony would do.

"I ain't allowed to go there."

"Oh, well-" That's okay. They can find somewhere else.

"But what Darry doesn't know won't hurt him. C'mon."

"Thank you," she mumbles, surprised. He just puts an arm around her. And they walk.

They walk.

Buck Merrill's place is a couple miles away, but they've got time.

"You okay?" Pony asks when they're about halfway there.

She nods; the motion is a lie. She can't feel her fingers. She can't feel anything. Her mind has a haze over it. She is screwed.

Because of some stupid guy and some beer.

And she's messed it up for Pony, too. Nobody cares if gossip is true. They just pass it on, and people start believing it.

She wouldn't be afraid for her own reputation, since she doesn't have one. But Pony's? Because of a guy who she didn't even like?

"Fuck," Angela says.

She hadn't realized she'd said it out loud, but Pony stops. He comes to stand in front of her and puts a hand on either of her shoulders, looking her in the eye. "I don't know what happened," he says, "but it'll be okay. You dig? We'll be fine. That girl, she just wants to get to you."

"She brought you into it!"

Angela is pissed. Pissed to tears, which fall freely.

"I don't care. If she says anything, it's all lies. It'll cool over if we ignore it. It's not true. It shouldn't bother us."

"But-"

"Hey, stop." Pony pulls her into him and holds her close, stifling her tears and her words. It's short and sweet. It's not so much romantic as friendly, and, at the moment, it's what she needs.

When he eases his grip on her, she sighs.

"Let's get to Buck's."

**xxxxxx**

Buck's place stinks. Like sweat and beer. But it's a distraction, if anything. A place no one will look.

Pony has been here before at least once; that much is apparent. He's not surprised, just a little disgusted, at the state of the room.

So he hasn't always listened to Darry...

They look around. Pony is rooted to the spot, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Angela, on the other hand, feels refreshed; she's glad to be in a place where no one cares about her past or even her present.

She drags him into the next room over where the couches are. It's a good place to just hang; when she ran away a couple times before, this is where she went. She sat on these couches for hours on end until Curly found her and dragged her home.

She's about to sit down on her favorite couch, the one with the stuffing not falling out, when she sees him.

Ponyboy does, too. He swears under his breath.

Tim.

Angela swallows hard.

Her brother stands up, squints, and walks over to her. His hands, in his pockets, are clenched into fists.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N:**__ Yes, this took longer than forever to update. I'm really sorry. x.x I've just been covered in homework and another, non-fanfic writing endeavor. Again, I apologize. I hope this chapter makes up just a little for the wait. It's not necessarily lengthy, but I like it._

_Most of my difficulties with this story is that I'm making Angela a little too ... docile and nice. I hope this chapter showed the delicate balance: how she's still a Shepard with her brother, but that she's different around Ponyboy. Because I know I act very different around one friend or another. I want to make sure y'all feel like she's still Angela Shepard and hasn't morphed into an OC. xD_

_Again, don't own, and watch out for cussing._

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Truth be told, most of the time, Angela isn't very scared of her brother. He's big and strong and has a mouth to rival a Brumly, but he's her brother and he knows it. Oh, he'll chew her out good every so often, and he'll cuss good-naturedly at her and Curly, but it's never aggressive. It's his way of showing them he gives a damn.

But now?

The blank expression that Tim is sporting as he approaches her and Pony has Angela intimidated as hell. Usually, if Tim's mad, you can see it in the lines that draw him. You can feel waves of anger coming off of him.

There aren't any. And there's no happiness, either. That's what's so damn weird about this all, that has the hair on the back of Angela's neck standing up.

When Tim is standing a few feet away from her, he looks almost taller than she remembered. And there are signs of a fight on his skin - bruises, scrapes, and the stiff way he's carrying himself.

"Last time I checked, I told you I didn't want to see a hair on your head."

Tim's voice is dangerously useful.

"If you did?" She can't show him she's scared, so she puts a touch of rebellion in her tone.

"Watch it." Tim scowls. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Ponyboy has remained painstakingly silent, but he's close to her, protective, almost, and his stance is ready. It's sweet. As if he could take on her brother.

"In your line of sight, or at Buck's?"

"Don't get smart, Angel. I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood."

"I said, watch it!" Tim spits out his words furiously, taking a few steps back and pushing his hair back with an exasperated hand.

Now Angela knows she's reached his limit. She says nothing.

"How about you sit down and we talk?" Tim is obviously struggling to keep his voice level. He gestures to a sofa.

"Okay," she says, wary.

Ponyboy leans in and says in her ear, "I'll wait in the front room."

Angela gives him a quick smile, thankful for his fact. Once he's gone, she follows Tim to the couch and sits, legs crossed. "Yeah?"

"Look, Angel ... you shouldn't have gone to that rumble. And you shouldn't have let Curly go."

"Like Curly would've listened to me!" She's heated. "Is this what you wanna talk about? All my wrongdoings? Again?"

Tim sighs, frustrated. "No, damn it, Angel! I'm -" There's a stretched-out pause in which her brother sucks in a tired breath. "I'm trying to apologize."

"Beautiful apology, dear brother. You've made it all better."

Angela makes sure her words are scathing. Now, when Tim is vulnerable, she can say the things she was too slow and afraid to say when he was pissed.

"Stop it, kid. Just shut your fucking mouth for a single second."

Tim doesn't say it loud and he doesn't say it hard. In fact, it's more of a whisper. But it compels Angela to do exactly as he says.

"You know what? I'm sorry. Maybe I should've only yelled and left it at that. But don't you dare say you didn't have it coming."

Angela thinks about protesting for a minute, but she decides against it. Tim is on a roll and she wants to hear what he has to say.

"And, really, it was smart of you to stop the big rumble. Mind you, it coulda been avoided if you hadn't been such idiots. But you did good," Tim says, soft. Then, unexpectedly, he shows her his purpling knuckles. "I fought with the Brumly leader, anyway. No one takes a knife to my shithead little brother."

Angela grins at this. "And he didn't start a rumble?"

"Nope. It was just him and me. Let's just say he won't be bothering us no more."

"Good."

"Damn straight," her brother agrees. "So, you and Curly can come back. The house is too damn quiet without you two little fuckers to make some noise. Dad and what's-her-name have taken to fighting someplace else."

So Tim doesn't know their stepmother's name, either. Angela doesn't feel half as bad about it now.

"Thanks, Tim," she says delicately. And maybe it's the days spent at the Curtis house, but she gives her brother a one-armed hug.

Grunting, Tim pushes her off of him. "What the hell?" he asks, tone gruff, but he ruffles her hair.

"I'll come home tonight, I just gotta get my old clothes from the Curtis', savvy?"

"Savvy."

Angela teasingly punches Tim's shoulder as she leaves, and, sure enough, Ponyboy is waiting for her in Buck's main room.

"How'd it go?" he asks.

She bites her lip, ponders the question. "Tim is a dick," she says, "but it went good."

**xxxxxx**

Angela and Pony make their way to the Curtis house slowly. Their speed is mainly due to Pony; every few moments, he points out something.

"That cloud looks an awful lot like a horse." Or "The cherry tree over there is real pretty." Or "Do you ever wish you could become a bird and fly a little?"

A lot of these things, Angela normally wouldn't even think about, but Pony makes them obvious.

"Thanks for letting me stay at your place," she says when he actually is silent. "It helped a lot."

"Don't thank me; thank Darry." Ponyboy ducks his head, smiles a sheepish smile. "And I didn't mind too bad."

Tentatively, he hangs an arm around her shoulders.

She lets him.

They reach the Curtis house ten minutes later, and his arm is still looped around her. He snags it away to open the door for her, just like a gentleman. It's kinda cute.

"Soda doesn't get home until after I do, and Darry gets here even later. Steve actually went to school today, so we should be good. When they get home, we'll just pretend we were there all day," Ponyboy explains, closing the door behind her. "We're safe."

Then there's the clink of a bottle from the kitchen, and both their heads snap up to glance around furtively.

In the doorframe of the hallway leans Two-bit, beer in hand. "There something you wanna tell me?" he asks, smirking.

"Two-bit?" Ponyboy is stammering. "What - but - you -"

Two-bit hasn't moved, just keeps up that annoying smirk. Angela glares at him; he winks but returns his attention to Ponyboy.

"You won't tell, will you?"

"Naw. Why should I? Knowing Darry, he'd find some way to make it my fault."

"God," Pony says, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Two-bit. You're great."

"I know, kid." The older man sinks down on the ground in front of the sagging sofa. "Let's see how bad daytime TV really is, shall we?"


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N:**__ Eek. So, guys. I'm really, really, really sorry about how long this took. Over a month? That's not okay; I know. I suck. Please forgive me for that. I'll try to have another chapter on the way soon to make it up to you._

_This one is slightly fluffier, especially in the second half. I just wanted to write some brotherly banter. Because it's fun. Hope you like it._

_I appreciate reviews very much._

_What's that? I still don't own the Outsiders? Oh..._

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

The woman on the soap begins screaming at her husband.

Angela looks away from the television. The scene unfolding on the pathetic program is a little too close to her own home life for comfort. Always one step-mother or another screaming away at her father. Whether it's his addiction or his slovenliness or just him in general ... step-mothers never stick around for long.

Ponyboy is the only one actually watching the show. Two-bit is mainly focused on his empty beer bottle, which he tosses from hand to hand as he stares off into space.

Day time TV really is terrible.

It's around noon; they've still got a couple hours to go and nothing better to do to pass the time. Angela wishes for a distraction. She doesn't think she can stand this shitty soap for any longer.

Just then, a distraction comes.

It's not the right one.

The Curtis' front door opens, and Darry steps inside.

Darry.

Of all people.

_What do they say, again? 'Be careful what you wish for?'_

Darry is hunched a little, sweaty, and has jeans dusted with dirt. He hangs up his jacket, turns, not really looking at anything. "Hey, Two-bit," he says.

Two-bit throws a wide-eyed glance at Angela and Pony before waving back at Darry with a smile. "Howdy."

Pony sinks lower into the couch.

Darry's eyes focus, and he straightens.

"Ponyboy Michael!"

Pony makes a sound that's half whimper and half cuss.

"Do you wanna explain to me why you're home?" his brother asks, stalking towards him.

"Not really."

"Ponyboy—"

The tone Darry uses obviously has some great effect on Ponyboy, because the poor kid sits up stock-straight, lightning fast. He holds his hands out in front of him, eyes alarmed. "Okay, okay," he rushes. "I'll explain."

"I'm waiting."

Angela wonders why this never happens in her house. Why does no one care when she skips? Why is she never given time to explain when she does do something to piss anyone off?

There's nothing she can do about it, though, so she tries to focus on Pony and Darry. She feels bad for getting Pony in trouble, but he isn't in any immediate danger. So she watches, feeling very out of place.

"Angela ran into this girl at school who was being a bitch. Said some nasty things about her. She needed to get away, so I came with her."

"Came with her where?"

"Um." For a moment, Pony turns pink. "The — the Dingo."

"Was it necessary to come with her?" Darry sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

Angela wishes he would act as if she were actually in the room.

"Yes," Ponyboy says. "Yeah, it was necessary, Dar. She was crying, and that girl was real awful to her. You say we ought to watch out for girls, right?"

His brother looks like he's living in a world of frustration. But he sighs again, obviously getting his anger under control. "Yeah, I did say that."

"So, am I grounded or what?"

"I don't know, Pone. How 'bout you explain to me better, without evading me?"

"I wasn't evading you!"

"When I ask you to explain, I want detail."

Angela can see where this is heading, and it isn't anywhere good. She wants to become invisible. She debates for a while whether to put something into the argument, but she does not want to get between those two brothers as they blow steam out their ears.

So she listens as Ponyboy explains, in great detail, the events of the morning. They sound so much worse the way he phrases them. She overreacted, she got upset, she acted like some old Soc girl ... This is embarrassing, but it seems like Darry is becoming less inclined to be mad at Ponyboy.

Finally, Darry turns to her. "Is he telling the truth?"

"Yeah," she whispers. "It was all me, the idea to go to B — the Dingo."

_The Dingo. Right._ Pony's brilliant lie. Probably the only thing saving them now.

"Your brother's ready to take you back?"

"Yeah."

Darry offers up an apologetic smile. She knows he's glad to be rid of her. She's caused them all more than enough trouble.

"Look, Pone," he says tiredly, "I don't wanna get mad at you for this. But don't you go thinking I'm fine with you skipping — I'm not. At all. You hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, Dar, I hear you. I won't skip. And I'll catch up on that homework I missed."

"You better."

With that, Darry turns and walks down the hallway into his room.

Angela winces.

_That did not go well._

"Pony, I'm sorry," she says first thing.

"It's okay," he tells her with a quick smile.

She doesn't argue; she doesn't have the energy.

Two-bit, who has been studiously fixated on the TV the entire time, stands and stretches. "I guess you got a thing for bad girls, huh, Pony?"

Ponyboy's ears turn bright right. "Shut up."

Makes Angela wonder what that Sonya girl was like.

"I'll get my stuff and get outta your way," she tells Ponyboy. Darry doesn't want her here, and she's taken advantage of his hospitality long enough.

But Pony shakes his head. "Naw, stay for dinner. Soda's making something tonight. You can't miss purple chicken."

She grins at that, thankful that he's making light of the situation. "Okay," she says. "I'll stay."

**xxxxxx**

All three of the Curtis brothers, one joker, one mechanic, and an out-of-place Shepard girl crowd around a table set with mismatched plates of strangely purple chicken.

Angela knows she should feel more than awkward, but she doesn't. Darry doesn't seem too mad, Two-bit is cracking jokes, Soda is happy like always, and Ponyboy looks content, despite all the homework he's got to make up.

That only leaves Steve, but she hasn't seen a smile out of him this entire time.

"You sure this ain't poisonous?" he asks of Soda once more, picking the chicken apart with his fork.

"It's food dye, ye of little faith."

"Just be glad he didn't make those rainbow hamburgers," Two-bit says, his grin a mile wide.

"I never made-"

Two-bit laughs.

Soda instead turns to Pony. "So," he says with a teasing look. "I heard you ditched with a girl today."

"I didn't, not in the way you're thinking. And if I had, it still wouldn't be a tenth of as many times as you did since you turned fourteen." Pony says it levelly, but his ears are bright red.

"Don't be condoning his actions, Sodapop," Darry adds in a low voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Superman."

After they eat, Soda and Two-bit have a contest to see who can chug water the fastest. Neither of them win because Pony splashes his own cup all over them, and they swear at him good-naturedly and tackle him to the ground. Steve rolls his eyes and watches from the sidelines, too good to join in. Darry starts washing the dishes.

They squabble for a while. Angela watches with a smirk that turns into a squeak as the tangle of limbs comes rolling her way. She jumps out of its path.

"Get - off - me - you - evil-"

"You - threw - water - on - us - you - little-"

"You're my - kid brother - I can do - whatever - I want-"

It ends when they hit the coffee table and a battered copy of _Gone with the Wind_ falls onto Pony's head.

"That was exciting," Angela offers.

Ponyboy laughs breathlessly.

Next to him, Two-bit shakes out his dripping hair like a dog, and Soda towels off his slightly less-doused hair with the shirt he pulls over his head. Both of them are grinning sheepishly.

Steve smirks a little, and even Darry has to grin as he hangs up the dish rag.

"Soda, did you do your laundry?"

"Damn it, Darry," Soda complains, dragging his feet as he traipses down the hall. He laments all the way to his room.

Two-bit ambles into the kitchen to get a beer from the fridge, and Steve follows.

That leaves Angela with Pony and Darry.

"I'll go get my stuff, then."

Darry gives her a curt nod, Pony an apologetic shrug.

She changes back into the dirty clothes, not wanting to take any of Mrs. Curtis' things. Her own clothes have pieces of crumbled leaf and dirt on them, but they work. She's just going back to see her brothers.

"Thanks for having me," she tells Darry back in the main room. She says is uncertainly; she isn't used to thanking people. Tim takes care of her, and you just don't thank him. You cuss at him.

"If you ever need somewhere, our house is open."

That confuses her. She hasn't done any good for Pony over the past few days. Really, today, she got him in trouble. Her surprise must be evident, because he adds:

"I can't say I'm sorry to see you go, but we leave our doors unlocked for a reason. Even your brother crashed here, once."

"Tim?"

"None other."

"Wow." Somehow, she can't see her brother stretched out in the spare bed or crammed onto the couch. This place is too home-like for him.

"You gonna be okay?" Pony asks her gently.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Tim's blown off all his steam. I think he misses me and Curly, to tell you the truth."

"Good. How're you going to get back?"

"I'll hitchhike. I know people 'round here."

"You sure?"

If that ain't signature Ponyboy. "Yeah, I'm sure. I've hitchhiked many times before."

"Okay." He walks over to give her a small, chaste hug, and kisses her hair quickly and tentatively. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, then?"

"Sure."

**xxxxxx**

The moment she's in the door, she breathes in the scent of home.

AKA beer.

Her dad has not been good, apparently. The stench of alcohol gives the house a nasty sheen. After the clean air of the Curtis', Angela almost wants to puke.

Then she sees Tim and Curly, the latter sitting on the floor leaned against the couch, and the former straddling a chair stolen from the kitchen backwards. They both have lit cigarettes between their fingers and a couple car magazines are open on the coffee table.

"Hey, Angel," Curly says. "How was the Curtis'?"

"Nicer than this shit hole."

"You don't say." Curly takes a drag and attempts to blow a smoke ring. He instead chokes on the smoke.

"Brilliant. You're so talented, my sweet brother."

"You shut your mouth."

"Or?" She doesn't know why, but she's ready to challenge him. She just keeps thinking of all the happy arguing that goes on at the Curtis place. That sort of thing is fun.

Tim's voice slices into their exchange. He looks completely and utterly bored, though the tiniest hint of amusement hangs on the edge of his expression. "Cool it, you two. Angel, you just got home."

"So?"

Her eldest brother scoffs at her. "So? Holy shit, kid. Think about it."

She just grins and comes to plop down on the couch between them. She thinks about looking at a car magazine but decides against it when she sees one of the fancy diagrams. Instead, she just basks in the fact that she's home.

It's good to be home, even if it smells of beer and her brothers are idiots.

They argue and swap stories until it's nearly midnight. And Angela still doesn't sleep in her bed; she sleeps on the couch, Curly's head squishing her legs, listening to one of her brothers snore.

This is her family; they'll have to do.

**Day 5 : End**


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N:**__ Hello, all. I wasn't as quick updating as I expected, but I have finished the story. Not including this one, I've got two more chapters and an epilogue. I'll post another every day or two. At least you'll get quick updates for those! Anyway, this chapter is very Tim-centric. I love the Shepard dynamic. Though I know the story focuses on Angela and Pony, I think I may just love writing sibling fluff or not-so-fluff more. This chapter's a little intense, though._

_Also, swearing. Don't own. You know._

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Day 6 : Start**

Angela has decided that she will never, ever take her home for granted again. Because when she wakes up, she's so excited to see that stain on the ceiling. She's excited to feel the little draft of air that comes from her window. She loves the feel of her sheets, which are rough from wear. And she loves, as she gets out of bed, knowing that she will once again be wearing her own clothes.

Not that Mrs. Curtis' clothes weren't nice. Really, they were pretty, for an outfit so respectable. But Angela just feels more comfortable in her own things. Things she's worn all her life - well. Not all her life. But all her life since she was twelve and old enough to know that there were boys who she could tease. Her clothes aren't too revealing by any means; Angela is not a slut, no matter what labels other people like to give her. But her clothes aren't respectable, either.

She pulls them on and wrestles with the door knob. The stupid thing. Okay, maybe she will take her home for granted, because it's run down and the stench of beer is choking. But, whatever. It's nice to be back, shitty or no.

Tim is already up when she gets down the stairs. Like always. Tim is an early bird, even though he goes to bed late. He just doesn't get along with sleep much, she guesses. Though he never cries or sleep-walks or even tosses and turns, he's mentioned his dreams once in a while. And if they bother him enough to mention it, that means they bother him a lot. Tim don't open his mouth about many things.

He grunts at her when he sees her. "Hey."

"Morning," she says, noticing he's drinking water, nothing alcoholic.

He takes a sip of his water, raises an eyebrow. "'Morning?'" he repeats.

"Uh, yeah."

She's not at the Curtis'. She needs to remember that. She greets Tim in the morning with a cuss word; it's routine.

To cover up her mistake, she shoots a swear word at him and then goes to the pantry to look for something edible. There's only bread, getting old by the looks of it. Not up to standard of the past few days. But, whatever. She lived this life for fifteen years, and she can keep living it. She sticks the bread in the toaster and waits. When it pops up, she waits for it to cool and then eats it plain. It's not like there's another option; there's no butter.

"So," Tim ventures slowly. "How were the Curtises?"

Angela doesn't want to sound overenthusiastic. She doesn't want Tim thinking he isn't good enough. Tim does his best, that much she knows. He did his best ever since it became clear that their parents wouldn't. His best isn't always that good, though. The choices he made before he became Angela and Curly's caretaker affect that.

But, what the hell? He's their brother, and he tries.

"They were real nice to me," Angela tells him. That's just a fact. Can't hurt anything. He should know that much; the Curtises are nice to everyone.

"Good. I'd have to go whip some Curtis ass if they weren't."

She rolls her eyes. "Tim."

He laughs - he laughs! She loves it when he laughs, because it's so rare. He just downs the rest of the water and nearly tosses his glass in the sink. It rattles but doesn't break, thank God. All they need is Step-Mom #7 coming home and finding shards of glass. That wouldn't end well.

When he doesn't say anything further, Angela breaks the silence. "What's with the water?"

At this, Tim's face turns hard. "It ain't anything special. Doesn't concern you."

"Oh, really?" His avoidance piques Angela's interest. She eases up onto the counter, nibbling around the edges of her toast. It's early; Tim just wakes up in the Godforsaken hours. They've got time before school. "I'm interested. Tell me."

"Look, Angel, I said I don't want to talk about it."

"I do." Normally she wouldn't push Tim like this. That's downright dangerous. But he isn't going to get mad; he looks sad, and she figures he needs to get it off his shoulders. Now, don't get her wrong - the Shepards ain't pansies. They're tough and hard and strong, but, man, Tim doesn't just drink water the morning after his sister comes home from exile and get away with it.

Tim sighs heavily, kicks at the cupboards. "I don't want to turn into our old man."

Angela stares at him.

That was.

Not.

What she was expecting.

Her eyes go more wide and confused than she meant to let them become, and she cocks her head. "Tim, you ain't like him. You never hurt me or Curly."

"Who knows what he was like when he was my age? God, Angie. I drink, I sleep around. Same as him. I just haven't hurt you yet. Maybe I will, if it gets bad enough."

"You won't," Angela tells him forcefully. Then her voice gets soft. "Tim, what happened?"

Surprising her, Tim lets loose his story without further prying. "He got pissed a couple nights ago, when I made you two get out. He was so fucking drunk, and he started screaming some bullshit about it being messy at me. And then he asked me where you were, and I told him I told you to get out. Then he got even more pissed, his face was so red, he pushed me into the wall, he told me we need to look out for our family, and-"

"Slow down," she says.

He doesn't slow down. He gets faster, angrier, tenser. "I told him to shut the fuck up - what does he know about family? I thought he would punch me or something, but, no, he just walked away swearing, grabbed a beer bottle ... Goddamn it, I hate him. I don't want to be him."

Tim lost his control and kicked at the cabinet harder this time, splitting it pretty clean down the middle. A couple splinters fall the floor and he cusses them out.

"You're fine, Tim," Angela says.

She hates their old man, too. She hates him so much. She hates him for never being there, and, when he is, always being drunk.

But they can't let that get to them - Tim is the one who has always told her that. So she steels her voice and says, "Hey, you need to forget about him, like you tell me and Curly. We fight for ourselves. We don't let anybody fuck with us, right? Not even him."

"Yeah," Tim says. "But sometimes I just want to fucking rip his lungs out."

"Don't. It'll be more satisfying to watch him destroy his own miserable life."

They're silent for a few moments, and then Tim goes to the icebox and snags a beer.

It's then that Curly decides to come down the stairs, yawning. "Well, what did I miss?" he asks, his voice still heavy with sleep, when he sees them standing like that.

"Nothing you haven't heard, Curls," Tim says stiffly.

And Curly is probably the best off of them all. Because Angela knows that Tim has told Curly everything he just told her, probably long before. But the thing about Curly is that he just doesn't care. He lets nothing bug him, and he just has fun. And Curly doesn't go to school, but Angela can see him working a job someday. Maybe learning about cars, or something like that. Curly's smarter than Tim, in a way, in that he doesn't get too angry for too long.

Curly shrugs and eats dry toast like Angela, and they don't say much else.

Angela makes sure she leaves early enough that she'll get to school on time.


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N:**__ Second to last chapter besides the epilogue. Part of it showing Angela in school, when she's not so docile. Hope you like it! I'm not so sure about it, but, eh. Something like this needed to happen._

_Don't own, language._

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Angela doesn't blush. She doesn't. But she sure wants to when she sees Ponyboy leaning against the brick wall, waiting for her to get to school.

_Oh, God, he's so nice!_

She feels smug, in a way. None of the girls she always works to one-up have like this - dedicated, kind guys. Ponyboy is too sweet for his own good, but perfect for hers.

When he sees her, he smiles a little. "How was it, last night?'

"What, seeing Tim and Curly?"

"Yeah."

"It went fine," she says, and it did. She reconciled herself with both of her brothers; that's enough in her book. Though she thinks of the morning and Tim's anger.

There are limits to how much she'll tell Pony. She won't tell him that. Not something so personal. Tim would want that to stay within Shepards, and so it will.

"That's good," Ponyboy says. "Let's go in, huh? We've only got five minutes or so."

"You didn't have to wait for me."

Here, he grins. "We've got a reputation to hold up, don't we? Even if they think we did things we didn't, they can't fault us if they know we know each other and weren't just drunk. That's something."

Angela likes the way he thinks.

She smirks and suddenly is feeling a lot more ready to walk into that school, even knowing that Carol will be there. She's ready. Her claws descend. Bring it, ladies.

Ponyboy may have softened her, but she is still very much Angela Shepard. She is queen, and she will hold onto her throne for dear life. She'll show those girls that she can.

She walks in next to Pony, and she can feel the stares of other Eastside kids. (That's to be expected - the Socs ain't concerned with greasers' goings-on.) But greaser girls - yes! Carol must have spread that rumor, because their eyes get huge.

Angela smiles wide back at them. As if to say, 'Hey, look at me, yes, that is Ponyboy Curtis next to me.'

They separate eventually and go to their lockers. Angela gets her stuff for her first period class.

She can face her classmates ... but she isn't looking forward to math. No. Angela Shepard doesn't do numbers. Absolutely not.

She suffers all the way through Geometry. She has no idea what the hell to do with all of this.

Next class is English, which isn't quite so bad. She can read, and though she would never waste her time doing it, it makes a whole lot more sense than a bunch of numbers and variables and n-sided-figures.

Then there's lunch.

It's chaos.

Angela gets her trayful of disgusting school food and sits down, only to be attacked by about ten different girls. Carol is at the lead.

The girls whisper. She only catches snippets.

"She actually-"

"Carol was right-"

"Ponyboy Curtis, dear Lord-"

"Mother Mary-"

"I can't believe-"

She looks up at them. "Have you got something to say?"

One girl sits down right next to her. Kathy, she thinks her name is. "Ponyboy Curtis," she announces to Angela. "You are so lucky, Angela Shepard. He is absolutely perfect."

_Perfect? No. But close._

Angela smiles at Kathy. "Oh, he's not perfect."

Next, a girl whose name she doesn't know leans against the table. "I thought Carol was making it up..."

"This is probably the first truth she's told," Angela says scathingly, looking at Carol the whole time.

Carol has not said anything at all, just stood there, arms crossed.

Across the cafeteria, the Soc girls are looking curiously at their table. Even some of the greaser boys have taken interest.

_This is exciting_, Angela thinks to herself.

And it is exciting for the whole rest of the lunch, until all the girls have cleared out and it's just her and Carol.

"I can't believe you," Carol says.

"What?"

"Using that poor kid like you are. Haven't you seen him? I bet he's never even looked at a girl before you, and then you go and seduce him to prove a point."

Angela stares at her. "What?"

"You sound like a broken record. 'What? What? What?'" Carol shakes her head, then grins ruefully. "You're truly a bitch, Angela Shepard. I don't feel guilty."

"I like Pony-" she tries.

"I'm sure you do," Carol says with a coy smile. "The same way you liked Rodney."

With that, Carol is gone.

Angela doesn't know what to think, whether to be pissed or stunned. Maybe she's a little of both.

Suddenly this isn't quite as exciting anymore.

**xxxxxx**

Ponyboy meets her after History class. "Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"I've got loads of homework tonight, but we can do something for a little while, if you want."

"Like what?" she asks. His concern about homework is amusing, a little endearing. Ponyboy will definitely get somewhere.

"I don't know. Walk around? Go to the Dingo? Actually the Dingo this time, not Buck's?"

She laughs. "Sure, the Dingo sounds fine."

They leave for the Dingo, which isn't too far. The Dingo is kinda rough, but it isn't nearly as bad as Buck's. Pony just buys her a Pepsi, and they sit down.

"Everyone is talking about you," Ponyboy says.

"They're talking about you, too."

"I guess that Carol girl knows how to spread rumors around, huh?"

Angela gives a half-laugh. "Yeah, she does, all right. But mainly the girls are just talking about how dreamy you are."

Pony's ears get red. "Dreamy?" he repeats.

"Yup."

"Okay..." He sinks lower into his seat.

She loves this. She loves the light humor that hangs between them without being awkward. She loves that they're doing something so innocent, like nursing a Pepsi outside a normal greaser hangout. It's all so deliciously allowed.

In the end, Pony asks about a dozen times if she's sure she doesn't need a ride home. She says no, just like she always does. He hugs her and says he'll see her tomorrow.

Angela waves goodbye to Ponyboy, smiles.

**Day 6 : Finish**


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N:**__ Last chapter besides the epilogue! The end of their week that took me ... over eight months to write. Wow. The week has seemed so drawn-out, haha. They got to know each other so quickly! I don't know if the time line is realistic; I think it might take longer for something like this to happen. But, maybe under circumstances like these ... Anyway. Just rambling now. Day seven, from start to finish. Here you go._

_You know the drill._

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Day 7 : Start**

Angela skips school.

She's just a bit exhausted from the social interaction of yesterday, so she stays home. It's a Thursday. She's gone to school twice already this week - an accomplishment. And maybe she'll go tomorrow. She doesn't know.

Tim gripes at her a bit when she doesn't, but she ignores him. She knows he doesn't really care that much. Besides, Curly is staying home, too.

Tim goes off to do God-knows-what with some member of his gang or another, leaving Angela and Curly alone.

Which is never a good idea.

Though Angela and Curly love each other, they always manage to find some way to tear the house apart. They get into food fights or pillow fights (not exactly; Curly would hate that 'girly' way of putting it. More like they launch pillows at each other, and said pillows end up getting destroyed) or simply normal fights. And if they don't break anything, they break their voices with the screaming. She had to play nice, though, today; Curly was still tender from the cut he'd gotten in the rumble.

Curly is just simply too fun to annoy.

Angela leaves the house in time to meet Ponyboy outside of school. She knows what she wants to do today.

He looks surprised to see her. "You weren't at school," he says.

"No."

He doesn't ask why, just waits for her to say something more.

"I was wondering," she begins, hesitant, "can we go back to that forest you took me to?"

"Sure," he says. He's smiling big. "Let's go."

"Right now? You don't have homework?"

"Naw, I got homework. But I can do it there."

So they go back to that same park, back to the clearing they visited last time. It looks so different in the daylight; the shadows aren't everywhere, they just decorate the ground. There are also streaks of sunlight, making all the colors seem brighter. Pony sinks down onto the log, tossing his backpack onto the ground.

"I'm glad you liked this place," he says.

Angela settles down on the moss-covered forest floor. "Yeah."

Ponyboy takes out a math textbook and a notebook and starts working on his homework. As he writes, he talks. "I can concentrate better out here."

"Less distractions?"

"Yeah."

Angela is silent for a few moments, thinking on what to say. She doesn't know why she decided to come out here again. She has no clue. She just wanted to see this place in the daylight, because it was so peaceful last time they came.

"Hey, this week? It's been great."

Pony looks up at her then. She can't read his expression. "You think so? I mean, your brother got hurt, and Tim kicked you out, and you had to wear my mom's clothes..."

"Trust me, I've lived with worse."

He laughs, but it sounds like he doesn't know what to think, and isn't saying anything because he doesn't want to offend her.

"So, how bad was it for you?" she ventures.

"Bad?" Ponyboy is surprised. "It wasn't bad. It was real nice."

"But I got Darry pissed at you, and you were in a rumble, and I took over your house..."

"Trust me," he says, "I've lived with worse."

Though it's meant to be funny, his eyes aren't amused. They're bitter, distant, sad, a little bit scared.

"Last year? With ... with the Soc and Dallas?"

Dallas. Those hard, cold eyes. White-blond hair. A toned body that Angela would've loved, if Tim wouldn't have killed her for lusting over Dallas Winston. Somehow, she can't imagine Pony ever saying a word to that old hood.

"Yeah, then," Pony says, soft. "I hope that's the worst life gets."

"For you, maybe. For other people, maybe not."

He smiles ruefully at that. "Yeah, I guess I'm being selfish, ain't I? There are other people who have it even rougher ... like Johnny, and then I go whining about my own life and I'm alive..."

"Hey." Angela comes to sit next to him on the fallen tree, putting an arm on his shoulder. "Whatever happened ain't your fault. It's good that you're alive. I mean, I'm glad."

Startling her, Ponyboy leans into her. "Thanks for that."

"Uh ... you're welcome?" She says it as a question, because she has no idea what else to say.

He kisses her.

It's not gentle and it is. It wants for more, but it doesn't. He doesn't attack her, but somehow it's so very fierce. His hands are on her back, this time. She's surprised at first, but she knows how to do this better than he does.

He breaks it off to breathe.

Then he looks up at her, almost shyly. "How does that rate?"

"Eight."

He smiles.

"I've got to work on my homework, you know."

Ponyboy picks up his notebook again, working out some fancy pre-calculus problem. Angela slides in closer to him, watching him write. She doesn't know what half the symbols mean, but, what can she do? It's nice, this - just sitting in the forest and being. Breathing.

It has been a good week, one so very different from normal ones. It all happened so fast, it seems. It's nice dating a gentleman for once. Angela could get used to this, she thinks. She hopes she could. Because her normal boyfriends will never land her anywhere but hurt.

She remembers what she thought to herself when she first set her eyes on Ponyboy Curtis: "Give it a week. You'll be mine by then."

_Looks like I succeeded._


	19. Epilogue

_**A/N:**__ And here Give it a Week comes to an end. I'm sad to see it go, and yet relieved that I've actually completed it. Just shy of twenty chapters ... Well. This isn't your normal chapter._

_If you like perfect endings and you want Pony and Angela to stay together forever, you probably don't want to read this. This epilogue is the rational side of me, the realistic one. This is what I think would happen if they ever got together like in my story. Even if it wasn't so sporadic, truth be told, I can't see them working out forever. If you don't want to think like that, then don't read this._

_This is just me tying up the loose ends._

* * *

**Epilogue**

**Six Months Later**

"Earth to Angela."

Curly waves a hand in front of Angela's face, annoyed. "You listening?"

That breaks her out of her trance. She glances up to him, startled. "Yeah, I'm listening."

But she's not. She hears the first few words of his rant about Tim's injustice, and then tunes out. She's heard this all before. Tim decided to be responsible and make them go to school, every day, on time - and so here they are, at 7:30 in the morning, leaning against the brick wall and complaining about it.

Angela already got all the complaining out of her system. By means of yelling at Tim until she was blue in the face.

Instead, her eyes focus on Ponyboy Curtis.

He's walking into school, holding hands with a pretty girl in a yellow dress that isn't too short. She's respectable, all right. Probably smart, too. She ain't a Soc, but she ain't greaser material, either. She smiles up at him and says something that's most likely very intelligent. He smiles back.

Angela wants to hate her, but she doesn't.

She and Ponyboy had a couple good months. Sweet months, where she didn't have to worry about fights and arguments. He treated her right, she basked in the newness of it all. Tim liked Ponyboy a lot, too, though he didn't show it; Angela never came home with bruises or mascara running down her face from crying.

She couldn't live like that, though. It was nice, but it wasn't her. Angela is a Shepard through and through. Wild and fiery inside, wanting adventure and a good yelling match once in a while. Calm and straightforward isn't in her nature.

Ponyboy wanted to settle down eventually, get a good job, blend into the crowd and live 'til he needed dentures. Kids. Marriage. Taxes.

Angela can't see herself like that, with Ponyboy or any boy like him. Somehow, when she looks ahead to her future, she can't picture herself past twenty-five or so. She thinks she'll burn out before then.

She told Pony that, as gently as she could. For once, she had to try not to hurt her man instead of the other way around. He looked real sad but he told her it was okay.

And that was that. No slow disintegration. No huge blow up. Simply one quick snip with a pair of scissors.

And that was how it happened.

One week later, Angela was back on the marker. Since then, she's gone through three different guys. All a tad more exciting than Ponyboy.

The one she has now is wild but not cruel. Maybe she'll stay with him. He knows how to laugh, and he doesn't care about the rules. He hasn't hurt her yet.

Or maybe that's just her wishful thinking. Maybe she'll just keep going on like this until she dies early.

She doesn't know.

All she knows is that she might have an actual life, now that Tim is shoving it down her throat. Maybe something will come out of it. Maybe not. And maybe Current Boyfriend will stick around.

In the meantime, she hopes Pony is happy.

"-I mean, he's just such a dickhead about this. This is our life, and he's fucking controlling us. He ain't our old man, he's our brother, for God's sake. School. _School!_ Can you fucking believe it?"

Angela looks up at Curly, then back at Pony and the backpack he has stuffed full of books.

"Yes. Yes, I can."

* * *

**_Fin_**

_And so it ends._

_Thank you to all those who followed, favorited, and especially reviewed this story. Whether or not you were here from the start, I'm very grateful. I love hearing your thoughts and feedback; it helps me grow as a writer. I hope you enjoyed the story._

_My next fic looks to be a Supernatural one about Krissy. If you're into that show, watch for it._

_Thanks again, readers! _


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